


The Untitled

by Ian Felanore (TyrHawk)



Category: Monster Hunter (Video Games)
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Complete, Hunters & Hunting, Original Character(s), Romance, World Travel, possibly canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-05-06 06:11:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 106,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14635715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TyrHawk/pseuds/Ian%20Felanore
Summary: It isn't often we mention names. The greatest royalty, the most-skilled hunters, and often even the people we know best in the world, we know them all by their titles. Names are private, personal, sacred. This you must understand before you hear the story of The Untitled. Because to hear their story is to hear their names; the names of Legends.





	1. Nifilan Encounters

**Author's Note:**

> Depictions of violence have been toned down in the draft you're reading, but I can't guarantee that they still aren't a little over the top. This version is otherwise safe for work, or at least as safe as one might reasonably expect.

The sky darkened for only the briefest of moments. It took the two Wyverian guards the same amount of time to pivot and snap the leather straps that held their weapons on their backs. Sunlight split off the blue of twin Plesioth Crystalswords, drawn in near-perfect unison.

In the distance, red and black stood out clearly against the blue of the morning sky.

“What in the world is that?” Jaruk asked, never taking his eyes off the massive creature making its way towards the carriage that had just begun to roll past them.

It had been a pleasant morning in the fields. Sol, the planet’s closest star and source of light, beamed over a horizon composed of rolling hills and scattered deciduous trees. Long grass, nearly knee-height, danced in winds barely felt by the small caravan as it rolled towards the watchtowers just visible on the western horizon.

The guards had been walking ahead of the carriage, clad in dark armor forged from shells removed from nearly a dozen Black Diablos. Each step crushed a hundred grass blades as easily as the Diablos had crushed so many foolish hunters. No physical features could be discerned beneath the armor except that they were tall, since they were very nearly equal in height with the back of the Apceros that trudged along beside them.

The beast of burden pulled a rather impressive carriage behind it. The hull had been constructed of what were undoubtedly Plesioth scales, making it semi-translucent. Along the edges, fins from the same wyvern had been fashioned into cutting blades meant as a defensive mechanism. As light struck the back of the piscine carriage, a sea made of blue and green light sparkled along the surface. Just barely visible inside was the silhouette of slender young woman.

“I think that’s a Rathalos.” Beneath the armor, a grin spread across lips surrounded by red stubble. “It looks like fun.”

The red wyvern screeched as it dived for the carriage, but the guards were faster. Both hoisted their Crystalswords and swung, connecting with either of the beast’s mighty wings. The tremendous force of the dive pushed the guards back nearly two meters, digging the heels of their boots into the soft dirt before they broke their foe’s momentum. “By the Fata that thing is strong!” Jaruk shouted as they shifted into battle stance.

“He sure is!” Molin charged forward with his blade but was quickly knocked in the opposite direction as the wyvern blasted him with a powerful ball of fire. Forgetting temporarily that standing still meant death, Jaruk stared in awe at the deep red beast which had just produced dragon’s fire. Reality set back in quickly enough when the beast roared. It took all they both could muster to defend against the pure brute force of the impact, and even then their boots dug into the ground again.

They dodged in separate directions, and Jaruk brought his blade up into the wing while Molin swept low for the feet. Jaruk’s blow connected solidly, but so did the Rathalos’ tail against his chest. Molin’s blow was glancing, having misjudged the distance to the foot in the tall grass.

“Great idea going off the road!” Jaruk shouted to his partner as he sprang back to his feet and circled around to look for another opening.

“I know, right?” Molin called back as he thrust his greatsword forwards. The fiery wyvern backwinged and released another fireball straight into Molin’s face. He had never been more glad for the Diablos’ resistance to fire in all of his life. “Son of a bullfango!”

Airborne, the Rathalos was twice the opponent he’d been on the ground. Even if the flaps of its wings were easy to avoid, it sent fireball after fireball down on then that burned through the grass around them, filling the air with smoke. Unable to see, Jaruk and Molin fell prey to sudden charges and dives until they found their way back to the clearing made by the road.

Both popped open mega potion vials and tilted them back through the opening in their helmets with the specially-designed funnels to get it to their mouths. It tasted like grass, dirt, and honey, but there was hardly a better taste when you found yourself in the situation they were in. Up above, the Los was circling around once again.

“Charge ‘em?”

“You really think we can time it?”

“Hell no. We got lucky last time. But I’m betting on our luck holding out for a little bit longer.”

So, Crystalswords back in their hands, they began to push their chakra through their hands. A glow built slowly around the hands, and then burst around the hilts of their blades. The Los began its descent, talons and tail extended this time. “HOLD!” Molin shouted. Their chakra burst up and over their blades, coating them in a harsh yellow glow. “NOW!”

As they swung their blades forwards, they each managed to connect with the Los, just not in the way they’d hoped. Molin’s blade had barely hit a talon when the tail’s massive spike slammed into him, puncturing his chestplate and nearly his heart. Jaruk tore through a small piece of the wing, but it wasn’t nearly enough to stop the beast from shooting backwards and back into the sky. “Looks like our luck has really run out. Who ever thought we’d be taken down by a single wyvern?”

“We’re not dead yet!” Molin said, but in doing so he coughed and realized his spit was purple. “Not that I’m going to have long. You got any antidotes?”

“I do,” Jaruk said as he kept his eyes on the Los. “But I don’t really think we’ve got time for me to give one to you just now.” As if on cue, the Los dived again, heading for the weakened Molin. “Clever bastard.” Jaruk ran to his partner. “Going up!”

Molin barely had time to turn and cup his hands, but he did just in time to heft and toss his partner skywards. Jaruk flash-charged his chakra into his blade, and brought it down onto the Los’s skull with all the force he could muster. It wasn’t the cleanest of hits, but it was enough for the beast to go careening off course. Of course, his wing clipped Jaruk in passing, but at least Molin wasn’t wyvernfood.

He rolled when he hit the ground, already searching through his pouch for the antidotes he carried. When he found a few he quickly threw them to Molin and took off towards the downed Los. Screw keeping a log for the Guild right now. They could take care of that later.

They pressed the attack while the Los was off its feet, but the moment it was back up Jaruk noticed the flames on the edge of its mouth. They hadn’t been there before. Had they? He had no more time to think the words than the Los roared and shot skywards at dizzying speeds. “I think we made it angry.”

“You mean to tell me that he was happy before?” Molin joked as he kept his eyes on the sky. “Well, we really are gonna die then.”

“Then we need to distract it long-enough for the carriage to get away.” They fought as valiantly as they could muster. Blocking, dodging, and swinging whenever they thought they could manage a hit. But the King of the Skies was breaking down their armor piece by piece, and their strength had all but left them by the time they’d used up the last of the journey’s whetstones. Weeks of travel had left them in short supply, and now their dull blades were hardly better than giant clubs.

Chest heaving, Jaruk watched as the nightmare of a wyvern circled them, ready for another dive. “This is the end, my friend.”

Molin, once enthused about the chance to prove his mettle in battle, had long since given up any chance of victory. Neither had a Guild flare, and both were out of potions on top of everything else. “I’m… afraid so,” he said, doing his best to seem strong despite his wounds. “I hope he chokes on my bones.”

The sky king started his descent, razor sharp claws extended for a killing blow, eyes locked on his prey. Its terrible screech erupted through the air one last time as the men faced their final moments in the world.

A figure in azure armor and a longsword strapped to his back leapt into view and slammed into the beast’s thick skull, sending the creature toppling over itself and the guards while its attacker landed with confident ease on the ground only a few feet away. The Rathalos hit the ground and roared its displeasure as it scrambled to regain footing.

“You two taking care of that carriage I passed on the way here?” Local Hunter asked them, never taking his eyes off the wyvern as it regained its footing.

“Yes… we are,” they panted in unison.

“Then go catch up to it. I’ll finish this guy off for you.” He smirked, finally turning his head towards them. “Unless you think you’ve got a bit more in you?” The hunter tossed them each a few mega potions. The Guild was going to have a field day with the item report.

Molin wasted no time in sharpening his weapon, even before he took in a potion. Jaruk, however, was a bit more cautious and did the opposite. Meanwhile, Local Hunter was walking calmly towards the Los, as though it were a downed Felyne instead of a fire-breathing wyvern.

The man eyed the ruby red Rathalos and grinned. “Los…” he began. The fire wyvern cut him off with a roar tinged in flames as he got back to his feet. He winced at the sound, but nothing more. The wind picked up, and for a moment his armor seemed ready to lift his body into the air. The wind settled; the Los charged.

“I’m hurt. Not even time to talk?” As the wyvern sped towards him, Local Hunter drew a black blade that rang out of its sheathe with immeasurable sharpness. “Oh well…”

Though Molin and Jaruk were quick to get themselves back into something resembling battle-ready, they were slowed a bit by the spectacle before them. Roars of anger and agony filled the skies as the man leapt over and around each attack. He slashed into and through the thick hide that had refused to yield to their Crystalswords. With him as a distraction, it was almost too easy to get themselves into range and unleash a few punishing sweeps to the Los’ legs.

The King of the Skies stood no chance against the power of the three together, but especially not the hunter clad in the scales of the wyvern’s kin. Because the guards had managed to do a fair amount of damage to the wyvern beforehand, the final battle lasted almost no time at all. As the once proud and fearsome creature fell to a decapitating blow from the longsword user, his killer took a knee and said a short prayer.

“Los you fought this battle well, but I could not let these men die. Rest now and forever, and let what soul you have take flight.” He took care as he carved a few scales and slices of webbing off the creature, while Jaruk and Molin did the same.

“That was an impressive display,” Jaruk said.

“It was bloody awesome is what it was. You were a monster!” Molin could barely contain himself, and slapped Local Hunter on the shoulder, which made his own arm remember how much pain it was in. Potions were miracles in a bottle, but they still didn’t heal you the way a good night’s sleep did.

“Thanks,” Local Hunter said, distracted by something else. “Didn’t you two come here with a carriage?”

“Right!” They shouted in unison before they ran off to catch up with the now-distant vehicle. Local Hunter watched them go, and then looked back at the Los. He pulled a flare from his pocket, tossed it up and down a few times, and then put it away. The Guild could wait to hear about this one. Then he set off after the others at a slow, steady walk.

When he came to the carriage it had stopped and a blue-haired woman was arguing with the red-headed guard. “I don’t care if it’s not your duty to sit in the carriage, Confident Twin, you’re hurt.” She had a pleasant and polished voice that was thrown into sharp contrast by the thickness of Molin’s own. She was young, barely twenty by her looks, and clothed in a long white dress, trimmed with gold that had been stained here and there with blood from the guards she was helping into her carriage. Her thin blue hair hung down freely to her hips, and she smiled when the injured men finally agreed with her urgings. Noticing their guest, she turned and politely hurried to him.

“You are the hunter who saved my guardsmen from that beast, yes?” She smiled at him and took his gloved hand. “Thank you so much, please let me know if there is anything at all we can do to repay your kindness.”

With his free hand, Local Hunter removed his helmet. Tanned skin, a gentle smile, blue eyes tinged with hazel, and finally a thick head of black hair emerged. The woman’s sapphire eyes caught his gaze and they stared at each other for a long moment. “My name is Tyr, milady, and the only thing I could ever ask for is your name.”

She forgot to speak for just a moment. In his eyes she saw the lush oases from her homeland, now so very far away from the endless prairie in which they stood. “I… am Gentle Wind,” she said, regaining herself.

“Not your title,” Tyr said with a shake of his head. “Your name.”

Gentle Wind wasn’t quite certain what to say. No one just gave out their names to strangers, and especially not someone in her position. She’d offered him anything at all, but had bitten off more than she had bargained for. Still, her word was her word. “My name is Sarah.” It sounded strange coming from her own mouth. When was the last time she’d actually given it out?

“Well, Sarah **,** allow me to guard your carriage until you arrive in the city.” His smooth tenor tone made Sarah smile. “I doubt that they’ll be up for much after that. I know I wasn’t after my first Los.”

Even though she wanted to say something about how he’d already done more than enough for them, she could not refuse such an offer, especially with her proper guards incapable of much until they received medical attention. “Lead the way,” she told him, her voice soft and small now that she wasn’t giving orders. Although there was much to talk about, they both seemed content to steal glances in silence at each other for the first few minutes of their walk.

“You know, we’ve got some rare creatures here, from what the traders tell me.” Tyr did his best to sound conversational. Although it probably wasn’t the sort of thing someone who rode in a carriage cared about, hunting was what he knew.

“Oh? Really?” Despite her lack of real interest in the subject, Sarah had been raised to put interest behind courtesy.

“Yes. Apparently the large, felyne-like pelagii we have in the region aren’t common elsewhere, and the Xiloukana isn’t technically a wyvern, although it looks to be one at first. I’ve been fighting against them ever since I mustered up the courage and the strength to kill something bigger than a Velocidrome.” He laughed at himself, and Sarah echoed him with a giggle. “So, you think the dromes are funny too?”

“Oh, no!” She flushed. “You just have such an infectious laugh is all; I respect hunters, all of them. Without men and women like you the rest of us could not live the lives we do.”

“Thank you for the compliment, but I only keep the village safe.”

“But as a member of the Guild, you help keep the world supplied with materials and valuable data.”

“No, I don’t. I’m registered with them because I have to be, but I’ve never accepted a Guild quest, and I don’t plan to start anytime soon. I hunt for Nifila, not for them.”

This was much more interesting news. “But, you still report back your kills so they can keep accurate records, don’t you? And there are surely other things all hunters need to do, yes? I know this is far from where I grew up, but I had thought there were standards practiced around the world.”

Tyr smirked, mostly to himself. “I practice them if there’s no one else around to do it for me.” His smile faded as he stared out at the approaching city. “I love Nifila, but the Guild is often more of a burden than it is useful.”

Silence crept back between them. Sarah wanted to say something about how well the Guild had done with filling requests by everyone. She wanted to, but realized that she knew nothing of isolated villages like Nifila and the Guild presence there. Perhaps it was more trouble than it was worth if they restricted certain hunts while they did research and counted populations. And the hefty fees which they taxed on every monster slain certainly wouldn’t ease the troubles of families in need of a certain material.

“Is there anything I should know about Nifila before we arrive?” she asked, not wanting their conversation to end on such a dire note.

“That depends on what you’re here for. If you’re only passing through, then there’s not much you’d need to know besides the location of the Guild Hall and Nevvy’s house. If you plan on staying though, we have certain customs that people say are… unique, even for those who come to us more than once a year.” His smile had returned, and it eased the tension in Sarah’s stomach and chest significantly.

“I plan to stay for nearly a month.”

One of Tyr’s eyebrows went up. “An entire month? What could you ever want from Nifila that would take a month?”

“I’m here to… live cut off from my home. For a time, at least. I’ve lived my entire life in one place, and even when I traveled it was under supervision. But I need to see the world outside for my own, with my own eyes. Feel it with my own hands. I need to live my life before… before I grow too set in my ways.” If Tyr noticed the final pause, he didn’t mention it. She’d been afraid that he might and call her on it, but when Sarah realized how eagerly she’d been speaking otherwise, her face colored. “So, any information at all would be appreciated.”

“Well then, I’ll do my best to summarize. If I miss anything though, I’ll show you the way to my home when we arrive, and you can ask me for anything you need.” Tyr went on to explain the various Nifilan habits and traditions. He went over the upcoming holiday, the importance of both the wall and the location of the city in defending from monster attacks, and the afternoon resting period. Sarah listened with interest, almost forgetting that she’d just met this easygoing and friendly hunter mere minutes ago. Before she knew it, the carriage had stopped and Tyr looked up from the conversation to the top of the towering obsidian wall in front of them. Sol had just begun to dip beneath the western horizon.

“Tyr! You’re back already? Guess they don’t make wyverns like they used to, eh?” A friendly laugh followed the light-hearted voice that came from atop the wall.

“I suppose not, Erhin. But small talk will have to wait. I’ve a lady and two injured men that need looking after.” However colloquial he might have been with the gateman, there was no mistaking the sense of urgency in every word. “They didn’t fare too well against the Los.”

“Say no more!” Erhin chimed as the gate rose up slowly, ropes and pulleys moving automatically thanks to a coal-powered machine. The moment the gate was high enough to be passed under, the Apceros lumbered into the village.

The wall itself was nearly two yards thick, and Sarah wondered how they could ever move that much rock so far from the volcanic region Tyr had described to the south. The village seemed so tiny in comparison to the wall. There were various buildings and stalls made of dark wood and decorated with brightly colored paints. She quickly spotted the weapon and armor smiths, as well as several different item shops. To the right was a small farm, full of dozens of plant species. She recognized herbs, which grew nearly anywhere, but most of the others she’d never seen before. Further in she could make out residential areas and some sort of wide expanse with a platform in the middle. “Hunter Tyr?”

Tyr was busy talking to a man inside the gate in Steel armor. He gave the man several instructions and then Tyr handed him his helmet. “I’d much prefer it if you just call me Tyr. I know it’s a bit personal, but everyone does it.”

Sarah managed to hide her unease again. She felt nervous about being so informal, but it would be worse to insult him by not obliging his request. “Very well. Tyr, what is that area for over there?” She pointed out the large platform and Tyr laughed.

“Do you not have dances where you come from, Sarah?”

“It’s not that, we just have them inside. I do come from a desert, after all.”

“I see. Well, that’s the town’s Performance Square. We hold dances, plays, and other public events there.” He grinned as images of men and women twirling in celebratory purples and reds flashed in the distance in his mind’s eye, and he longed for the sweet scent of Honeyed Aptonoth Eggs. “It’s quite an experience. But, that’ll have to wait. For now, I’ll escort you to the Guild Hall, since I know they’ll want to know you’re here. Then to the Chief, your guards, and finally to wherever it is you’ll be staying.” He offered her his arm. “Shall we?”

Back in the realm of things she knew, Sarah threw on her manners and took the proffered arm. “But my guards are already here.”

“I thought you might not see it my way,” Tyr said as the man he’d been speaking with led the carriage away with his free hand.

Sarah was torn between a frown and a smile. On the one hand it had been a clever trick, and on the other she had fallen for it. There was also the lingering distaste for someone else having control of something that was hers, but she had to dismiss those thoughts now. She wasn’t supposed to be anyone special here. “Lead on, Tyr.” Though it was only the second time she had addressed him in such a manner, Sarah found that doing so felt much less inappropriate than she had expected. She had often called family and some servants by their first name, but never a hunter. The ease of it lifted a burden she had feared would drag her down, and so she took in the town to ease her mind further.

Even in the twilight of day, this village was far from sleepy. Tanned people, straw-roofed houses, and the smells of dung, honey, and various grasses seemed to be everywhere. Children played and women laughed, one man guided several Aptonoth through town while another smoked his pipe with a few attentive felynes. Her wandering senses focused when she noticed the imposing face of Nifila’s Guild Hall.

The skull of a Rathalos, fangs bared and illuminated by torchlight, had been mounted over the entrance. Though void of any life or sound, Sarah recalled the chill she had felt the first moonless, cloudless night that she’d ever heard the angry roar of a Tigrex. She instinctively moved herself a half-step closer to Tyr as they neared, and refused to look up as they went in.

Pipes and gentle drums greeted them, as well as a chorus of cheers from a group of drinking men halfway across the hall. Hearty conversations and courageous tales echoed throughout the building, and Sarah couldn’t help but forget the terror of the wyvern skull outside. Although Bug Beer and long-dried blood were hardly pleasant smells, at least they were something familiar in a room full of strangers.

An exceptionally large Wyverian man stood behind the counter with his arms crossed. His stature alone would’ve explained the size of the doors they’d come through. He wore a thick garb crafted from the furs of the Nargacuga, along with a harsh expression. His eyes were closed, his thick lips curled downwards, and lines of heavy frustration cut across his forehead. Without missing a beat, Tyr brought Sarah before the imposing Wyverian and coughed once. “Halcon.” The large man acknowledged him with a grunt. “I killed another Rathalos.”

This brought a deeper scowl, but no eye movement. “And who exactly told you to do that, Hero of Nifila?” His voice was gentle considering his size, but was by no means friendly. The title was what concerned Sarah far more. A hero?

“No one. I took it upon myself while I was out gathering some herbs.” Sarah could feel the tension of Tyr’s arm as he spoke, though his voice betrayed nothing.

“And why, exactly, would you take such an act into your own hands without first consulting the Guild?”

“To save lives.” Again, Halcon’s expression remained unaffected. “One of them is here with me, her name is Sarah.”

Halcon turned his head, eyes never opening, yet somehow managing to pinpoint Tyr’s companion. When he spoke, his voice was lower, softer. “You are the Young Princess?”

Her secret revealed, Sarah’s heart sank. “I am,” she said. His face finally eased, however slightly.

“Very well. I shall send a report to your father that you have arrived safely. Now, if that is all, Hero of Nifila, I have other business to attend to.” He snapped his fingers and a speckled felyne emerged from a hole behind the counter.

“Yes, nya? What is it?”

“Hero of Nifila has slain a Rathalos. Reason: Protection of Royalty. Note it in the records. Send a message to the king of Fahrenn. His daughter has arrived and she is well. That will be all.”

“Roger that, nya!” The felyne disappeared once more into the hole as quickly as he’d come.

Tyr led Sarah out of the hall while several pairs of eyes followed them, but no one said a word about them that either could hear. Outside, Tyr took a deep breath and all the anxiety in him seemed to melt away. “I apologize for Halcon. He’s not the friendliest Wyverian you’ll ever encounter, but he’s good at his job. I’ll give him that.”

“That’s quite alright.” Although she would’ve liked to ask him about the tension she’d noticed, her mind was more focused on her secret being out so soon. He hadn’t mentioned it yet, hadn’t even reacted at all, but maybe, she hoped, his mind had been too busy with his personal business. “Are we to see the Chief now?”

Tyr took the opportunity as an invitation to get as far from the Guild Hall as he could manage. Along the way, Sarah pointed out a group of kids who were dancing through the streets. “Is that sort of thing normal? For children to dance in the streets at this time of day?” Night had already fallen, and lanterns filled with novacrystals had been placed along the streets.

Tyr noted a few of the faces. “They do if they know what’s good for them. They’re going to be performing in a week.”

“Is there something to be celebrated on that day?”

“No; nothing like that. It’s just for entertainment. People need distractions from the black walls around Nifila, and the children here are eager to put on plays, dancing routines, and even choral events for the wearier folks.”

“Do no adults take a part in the performances?” she asked, her interest at its peak.

“None at all. The older children teach the younger children while the adults labor to keep the village running.” He lowered his voice to just above a whisper, placing his lips inches from her ear. “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but without the children I think Nifila would have been lost long ago.”

“To what?” she asked while inching her head away from his. His respect for personal space was lacking, it seemed, but she reasoned that he had needed to be that close in order for her to hear without others doing to same. People still chatted along the streets and Sarah could make out some of the villagers eating and laughing inside their homes.

“To grief.”

The house of the Village Chief was far-less intimidating than the Guild Hall. It was a simple building with a wooden door that anyone could’ve easily mistaken for any other home in the village. There were no identifying features to set it apart, and yet Tyr knocked as politely as possible at the door. “Nevvy?” Some shuffling sounds came from inside before a tall, thin Wyverian woman opened the door and smiled kindly at them.

“Tyr, how nice to see you. And I see you’ve brought a guest with you.” She examined them both in a moment and shook her head. “And you’ve bloodied her nice clothes as well.” Before either could say a word she headed back into the house to fetch something.

Tyr smiled to Sarah. “Go in, she’ll insist we do in a moment either way.”

As though she’d heard him, Nevvy called out to them over the noise of bottles being moved. “And do come in. I’d hate for you to add dust to the blood already there.”

The Village Chief’s house was something of an organized disaster area. Books, open to random pages and all face down, lay scattered across the floor and all but two chairs in the main room. Through an ajar door on the other side of the room there sat shelves of colorful liquids in glass containers that their hostess rifled through. There wasn’t, however, a speck of dust in sight. As Sarah looked around, Tyr watched her wandering eyes with a silent smirk.

“Here it is!” the exclamation cut into whatever thoughts either of them might’ve been in the middle of. Nevvy was holding up a small vial of white liquid. “This is an ancient recipe for removing blood from clothes. You may take it for your beautiful dress. Might I ask why you’re wearing such a thing so close to a hunter like Tyr? Surely you know that’s a bad idea, even if he is the Hero of Nifila. Not that he’s a mess or anything, mind you, but.” The Nifila Chief stopped, her chime-like voice silenced as her eyes studied the Young Princess’s face. She seemed puzzled. “You’re… not from this village.” Her head snapped like a whip. “Tyr, who is this girl?”

Tyr held back his laughter as he spoke. “She is the Princess from Fahrenn.” Sarah felt her heart sink again. He had noticed after all. “I assumed you knew she was coming.”

“Yes, yes, that’s right. Young Princess, wasn’t it? How nice it is to finally meet you. I’m Nifila Chief, or Village Chief, but many of the villagers call me Nevvy, short for my actual name, which I suppose you’ll eventually find out is Nevyra. I’m quite fond of the alias myself, so feel free to address me as such if you prefer, though my title works just as well. It must’ve been a terribly long trip, but I do hope you didn’t go through too many hardships. The wyverns have been rather antsy as of late, and I would feel just awful if you had trouble with them on your way here. I did offer to send out two our own hunters to meet you and guide you, but I was told that your guards would be more than enough to handle the duties. I’ve not informed anyone else of your coming, as per your request, and so everyone will treat you just as they would any newcomer, unless you point out your nobility yourself. I imagine that you won’t though, since you made it clear you were to ‘be here as a normal citizen.’ Whatever ‘normal’ means in a place like Nifila. Which reminds me, please don’t tell anyone else that bit of information, Tyr. I know you won’t, of course, but we’ve been given strict instructions not to let her royal reputation of out the bag. As if anyone kept anything in bags that was worth all that much. Well, farmers do, I suppose, and we have a few of those. Hunters too, now that I come to think of. Perhaps I should rephrase to say ‘As if anyone kept anything _out_ of bags that was worth all that much.’ Though I guess hunters use pouches more than bags, don’t they? Well, no matter. Don’t tell anyone I said any of that either. Of course, even if you don’t go spreading gossip about the Village Chief, having been seen with Tyr will give you quite the reputation anyways, since he’s such a well-known man. I dare say some villagers might even think that you two are lovers already.”

Sarah’s face turned bright scarlet at the suggestion, and Nevyra smiled sympathetically. “There, there. Any rumors of that nature will quickly be dismissed, I’m sure. Rumors are always easy to die out if you don’t feed the fires. A strange saying too, don’t you think? Feeding fire, as though it were alive, or at least hungry. Can things which aren’t alive be hungry? I suppose the Nakarkos might answer that, but is it really not alive? I don’t know. Now, you will be staying in a newly constructed home not far from here, not that anywhere in the village is far from here. I’m sure that Tyr can show you the way and get you settled in as soon as you’re ready. It’s the one next to Silver Stitcher’s house, Tyr. Lovely family. They make such nice clothes. That reminds me, I’ll have to talk to them about the next performance. We’ll be needing more orange. But that’s my own business, so no need to worry the two of you with it. Is there anything else I can do for either of you?” She pressed the vial into Sarah’s hands, silent for the first time in minutes.

Still dazed from the whirlwind of words, it took Sarah a few seconds to formulate a reply. “No, I’m quite fine. Thank you, Village Chief. Do you need anything else here, Tyr? I would like to check on the status of my guardsmen as soon as possible.”

“Your guardsmen _were_ injured? Oh, the poor things! Well, not things, obviously, but ‘the poor people’ has a whole other connotation, doesn’t it? Oh, I just knew that I should have sent the Naru Sisters. They are such dependable hunters for things like that. There are such vicious creatures in this portion of the world. Nasty things, really. What hurt them, if you don’t mind my asking? No, nevermind, of course you’d mind. You just said you wanted to get to them as soon as possible and it’s none of my business anyways. I’ll keep you no longer. Tyr, if you need something you’ll have to find me later.” With a speed that Tyr and the rest of Nifila had grown accustomed to, and which Sarah was finding herself swept up in, Nevyra nudged the two outside with a quick goodbye and a polite, but firm, door closing.

Tyr laughed, and Sarah joined in without meaning to. “Does she always act in that particular manner?”

“If by manner you mean speed then I’m afraid the answer is yes,” he said. “You’ll grow used to it with time. So, to the medical center?”

“If we can, please. And I believe you also offered to show me where it is you live, yes?” She didn’t want to seem forward, but knew that she would need all the help she could get when it came to acculturating herself.

“Of course. I’m a man of my word.” He offered his arm to her once more. “Shall we?”

Sarah hesitated a moment. The Village Chief’s comment about them being lovers, however far from the truth it might have been, was a quite embarrassing notion. She flushed at the thought, but made sure Tyr couldn’t see. “Lead on, Tyr.”

They traveled without incident, but in silence to the infirmary, where Sarah hurried to the side of the bandaged men. Sarah stood between them and smiled, gently squeezing a hand of each man, even though their hands were easily twice the size of her own. “Thank you both so much. I’m sure I could not have made it without you.”

Molin spoke first. “Nor would we have without the help of this Local Hunter.”

“Speaking of which, what should we call you, sir?” Jaruk asked, less adventurous with his movements than his partner.

“My name is Tyr. And, before you ask, I don’t sign autographs, and Sarah has already repaid me for saving your hides.” The men exchanged glances with Young Princess.

“I only told him my name, nothing more. Please don’t fret on my account.” They both did as commanded, relieved all-the-more now that their duties were officially over. “And I’m sorry not to stay but, if you’ll both excuse me, I’ve my new home to settle into.” She needed no reason to dismiss herself, but both men smiled at her in acknowledgment before she and her escort left.

“Your guards worry about you, even in their condition. That’s a level of dedication I wasn’t expecting.”

“And why not, exactly?” While Sarah was sure that Tyr had meant no harm in what he had said, she felt compelled to ask on behalf of the men who had given so much just to protect her. Just in case.

“In my experience with guards, their concern for their masters ends once given time off.” His tone was harsher than she’d expected. “They must truly adore you to worry about your personal affairs.”

“If you say it is so, then undoubtedly it is so out here,” Sarah said with a bit of a sour taste in her mouth. “I, myself, have known only guards like the two inside.” In fact, guards represented over half the people in her life, and yet, Sarah realized, she knew so few by their name. Not even the two inside. That was almost as distasteful as Tyr’s assessment. “Today has been rather full of excitement, and I’m not yet used to such things. Perhaps we can go straight to my new quarters now?” The addition of an accidental yawn only emphasized her point.

Children ran along the streets, some of them swinging sticks and battling as they went, shouting and laughing. One of them skidded to a stop when she recognized Tyr and ran up to him. She was a girl no more than eight years old, but she had eyes like the Sea of Sand. “You’re Master Hunter Tyr, aren’t you? The Nifilan Guardian? Hero of Nifila? Azure Flame?” Her tiny voice was filled with respect and awe, but was surprisingly controlled for her age. “I’m Natalie. You’ve been helping my momma with her herbal gathering. She says you’re the only hunter in all of Nifila that actually gives a dragon’s dung.”

Tyr knelt down in front of the girl. “I’m not the only one who cares, little Natalie, just the only one willing to do what’s needed, even if the Guild disagrees.”

“I’m going to too the moment I can hunt,” she replied, lifting the long stick she was holding into the air proudly. “I’ll become just as great a hunter as you.” Her eyes turned away, and her voice turned with them. “You’ll teach me how, right?”

“Of course I will.”

The girl beamed and looked directly into Tyr’s blue and hazel eyes. “I’ll teach anyone willing to learn. But, I require something of all my trainees first.”

“Anything you ask of me, Master Hunter Tyr.” Even in the face of her hero, the Griin child was resolute.

“You shall accompany Sarah and me to her new home.” Tyr made sure to use his most official tone, though he was mentally smiling at the girl. Sarah caught herself smiling, partially for their interaction, but also because Tyr hadn’t mentioned her royalty.

“Yes, Master Hunter Tyr.”

“Oh, and you have to call me Tyr, little Natalie. I’m terrible when it comes to formalities.” He stood up as he spoke this time, once again giving his arm to Sarah, who took it automatically. It didn’t take long after the trio took off before Tyr stopped the group and pointed to a rather small building, set between two houses that dwarfed it in size. “That’s my home. Natalie, once you get permission from your parents, you can come there for your lessons. And Sarah, if you need anything from me, I spend most of my time there, since it’s where people know to find me.”

Sarah was surprised that he had such a tiny home. No doubt a hunter whom the people and the Village Chief all seemed so fond of would’ve been offered a larger building than the one he had pointed out. It wasn’t even nearly half as large as Nevyra’s house, which Sarah had already considered small compared to many of the others they’d passed. She wondered if there was some tradition in Nifila which required more important people to take smaller dwellings and she found herself thinking some of this aloud. “It’s smaller than I had imagined.” When she’d finished, she was glad the dark of night hid the heat in her face.

“I don’t need anything larger yet. So, I won’t allow myself to take up space which the other villagers could use more effectively, even though they’ve offered it multiple times.” Only a few houses down the street, the three of them arrived at Natalie’s house and then Sarah’s new home. When Tyr stopped, Natalie was a bit surprised.

Natalie looked up at Sarah. “I didn’t know my new neighbor would be a friend of my favorite hunter! Momma will be pleased to know.”

Tyr chuckled. “Go home now, little Natalie, and make sure to tell her everything. Mothers like to know everything.” The girl grinned, bowed, and then took off like a wyvern.

“You’re quite admired, even by children,” Sarah said. Their eyes locked and a night breeze tickled the back of Tyr’s neck.

“Yeah, I guess so. Well, since you’re safely here, I’ll leave you to get some sleep. Unless you need anything else?”

“No, nothing. You’ve done far too much for me as it is, Tyr.” She felt a familiar tightness in her stomach as he bowed and turned to go. It was the same tightness she felt whenever her brothers left on hunts. “You know,” she said, just loud enough for him to hear, “you’re not that different from them.”

“Different from whom?” he asked, turning back to face her and temporarily relieving the feeling in her stomach.

“My guards. You’ve taken care of me far past the scope of what duty would entail.” Sarah clung to those parting moments as best she could. Though they must, inevitably, come to an end, she couldn’t help but not want them to, and, more importantly, she wanted to know why she didn’t want them to.

Tyr smiled at her, bowed again, and then caught her gaze one final time. “I assure you.” His eyes flashed in the glow of a light lamp. “I would never pass up the opportunity to spend the evening with such a beautiful woman.” Sarah’s eyes widened and her face turned the color of firestone. She’d been called beautiful a thousand times, met over a hundred suitors with personalities of every kind, and yet there was something about Tyr that caught her off guard. “Goodnight, Sarah.”

Almost a full minute after he had disappeared, Sarah made herself enter her own home. Her packs had been brought in from the carriage, as Tyr had no-doubt arranged, and on her bed was his helmet, framed in moonlight. She smiled to herself in the darkness, knowing that she would have to return it to him, and as she picked it up and held it to her chest she whispered to the night air, “Goodnight, Tyr.”


	2. Trouble With Training

She knocked several times on the door as politely as she could. Although it was by no means normal, that day Sarah was up shortly after the break of dawn. It was surprising to see so many people up and about so early in the morning, and especially to think that most of them didn’t know who she was. Of course, they knew that she was a stranger, but they didn’t know her title or her heritage, and that was unusual for her. When no one answered the door, she wondered if Tyr was still asleep, but the sound of crackling fire had brought her around to the back of the house to check if everything was alright.

A wave of flames flashed upwards though the chilled morning air. At the tail end of the fire trail was none other than Tyr, dressed in a casual green tunic with matching trousers. He cut through the air at invisible enemies, felling one after another until there were none left.

“Excuse me,” she called gently, hoping she wouldn’t startle him.

Tyr turned around as though he had never been doing anything else. “Ahhh, Sarah. Good morning.” Noticing the blue object in her arms, the hunter smiled. “And you brought my helmet back. How very kind.” The way he smiled, with that half smirk, left no doubt it her mind that he’d planned the whole thing.

“You’re quite welcome. It was on my bed.” She was dressed far more simply today, in a white blouse and a black skirt. Both were far nicer than anything she’d seen in the village; she had underestimated how simple Nifila would be. As Tyr took the helmet, Sarah felt she had to say something. “So, do you always practice alone in the mornings?”

“I’m afraid so,” he said with a shrug, “It’s not like we have an arena.”

They stood together in silence, neither quite looking into the other’s eyes.

“Your outfit is nice.”

“You noticed?”

“It’s hard not to.” Another long moment, but it was in this moment of prolonged silence that someone knocked very loudly at the front door of Tyr’s house. A familiar voice called out. “Tyr? Master Hunter Tyr? Are you home?” It was Natalie, and both the adults were glad to have something else for their minds to focus on.

“I’m back here, little Natalie.” Though he hadn’t needed to, Tyr raised his voice to nearly a shout. Sarah stepped back from him, not wanting to fan the flames of gossip, even if it was just Natalie. The girl came rushing around with her stick and a smile. “Good morning, Natalie. I see you convinced your parents quickly, eh?”

Proudly, she held her stick high. “I did. When do we begin?”

“In a moment,” Tyr said as he turned back to Sarah. Natalie squirmed; she hadn’t even noticed Sarah was there. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Sarah took a moment. “If… it’s alright, may I stay here and watch? I am rather curious about hunting."

“Of course.” The smirk returned, and Sarah wondered just how much Tyr had planned of this little encounter. “Natalie, stand right over here, and stay perfectly still. Do you understand?” The little girl jumped into action, standing a little too still. Tyr was impressed. “Very good, but you should breathe. Now, hold up your weapon, and stay just like that. No matter what.”

Though the last phrase was more than a bit disturbing to both women, neither said anything as Natalie raised her wooden “blade.” The hunter drew his katana again, and the contact of oxygen against the edge made it glow red. “This long sword was specially crafted in a far-off land, or so I’ve been told. Its base is Rathalos materials, and the spikes that act as the guard are unlike every other weapon in my possession, although the blade is what makes it truly unique. The blade is mostly ice crystal, but it’s lined with firestone so, as you swing the blade, the movement heats it to a point that the firestone lining bursts.” He drew it through the air in a sudden swipe and flames erupted. Natalie stayed still, but Sarah jumped slightly.

“I’m going to come straight for you, Natalie.” Tyr turned to face her and, for just a moment, the little girl shivered. He dashed forward and swung. The red line of fire cleaved through the stick like it wasn’t even there. And as the top end leapt upwards, both pieces immolated for a moment and Natalie fell backwards in fright.

Sarah was anything but pleased. “Tyr, was that entirely necessary?”

He nodded without looking at her, focusing on the wide-eyed girl below him. “I’m the least terrifying thing in the world, besides maybe a Kelbi. If you can’t stand your ground against me, you’ll never be able to survive out there.” Tyr stared down at the slowly comprehending Natalie. “You did well, Natalie.” Tyr lifted the girl easily with a single hand and smiled. “Most run away when I try that trick, even some who’re already hunters.” This made Natalie smile even more broadly.

“You mean it?” She quickly picked up the two halves of her stick and held them tightly. The flames had gone out, but the singed ends were still smoking lightly.

“Of course I do. Now, what style of weapon do you use?”

“I don’t know,” Natalie admitted. “I thought that maybe you would know.”

“Although I’d love that kind of skill, I’m afraid my current armor doesn’t give that one.” He looked back at his house, as if it was about to make him a deal. “Hold on.” After holding up a single finger, Tyr traveled inside with his helmet and blade.

Natalie wasted no time. “New Girl In Town?” Natalie asked, bolder in the face of someone she barely knew. “How is it that you know Master Hunter Tyr?”

“We met yesterday when he saved my friends and me from a terrible wyvern.” She spoke slowly, as if it were some distant memory she was trying to recall. “He showed me around Nifila, and that is where we met you. Why is it that you ask?”

“My mother thought you might’ve been his sister, or his woman.” Although her words were far beyond her years, Natalie spoke them without a speck of hesitancy.

Sarah flushed at the thought. The rumor had already sprung, as the Village Chief said it might. “No, no. I’m nothing of the sort.” The red slipped away as she regained herself. “And I’d appreciate it if you and your mother would let others know that.”

Silence fell. Both of them were unsure of what else to say. Natalie, though talkative, was impatient for Tyr’s return, and Sarah was far too wrapped up in her own thoughts to come up with anything else to say to a girl like Natalie. So, they stood reticent until the hunter emerged, carrying a large red sack and a small grey one. He sat the larger one next to Natalie, and handed her the smaller one.

“It’s… full of zenny!” the girl shouted in surprise, staring at the small bag intently. Sarah was equally shocked, though she hid it better. His plans were impossible to discern, but he had that smirk again.

“Indeed it is, and this bag is full of materials,” Tyr told her, crouching down to meet her eyes. “Take these to Elik, the smith, and tell him that I require bone weapons fit for a Felyne friend of mine. A large Felyne though, right about your size. Understood?”

With a smile, and before another word could be said, Natalie ran off, dragging the heavy bag behind her. The adults watched her, one of them grinning, and the other still in some degree of shock. Tyr clapped his hands. “I believe that’ll buy us a few hours. Would you care to take her place?”

The princess imagined this was the sort of thing she’d have to get used to if she was to spend any more time around him. The thought crossed her mind while another escaped her mouth before she could think it through. “Me? But, why me?”

“You said you had an interest, didn’t you?” Tyr shrugged as if disinterested himself. “If you don’t want to though, I understand.”

“Well, it’s just that… am I properly dressed for that sort of thing?” She asked in earnest, but Tyr couldn’t help but start to laugh. Despite her confusion and displeasure at being laughed at, Sarah stayed quiet while he went on. Soon enough, the hunter quieted and shook his head, wiping a small tear from his eye.

“I’m afraid your upbringing is showing. Have you never seen a hunter before?”

“Of course I have,” she snapped, and the smile left Tyr’s face at once. “But they don’t go out dressed like this.”

“I see. I’m very sorry. You can dress however you want to to practice hunting. Hunting armor comes in all shapes and sizes, just like hunting weapons and hunters themselves.” He placed his hands together in front of himself and bowed. Is there anything that I can do to make it up to you?” Though bowed, Tyr stared up at her so directly and his words were so sincere that Sarah forgot why she was mad for a moment. But her anger returned a second later.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to think of something on your own, Tyr.”

“Oh? Well, I’m certainly not wealthy enough to give you anything you couldn’t afford. And I need you to forgive me in order to let me give you lessons. So, I suppose a kiss is the only option.” With that same smirk, he stepped towards her.

The princess stepped back, blushing furiously. “Why, Hunter. Er, Hero. I mean T-Tyr. You can’t simply - it’s not proper for you to -“ Tyr took her hand amidst her protestations, raised it to his lips, and lightly kissed the back of it. Sarah felt even more embarrassed. Even if she’d had a clear-enough mind to want to be mad at him, she hadn’t the willpower to be riled up any longer. “You’re...” she paused and tried to regain herself, but failed almost entirely. “Forgiven, Tyr.”

Tyr was grinning as he turned around and headed back into his little training area. “If you decide you do want to train with me then, by all means, just step in. Otherwise, you’ll have to forgive me, I have to do this now or it’ll never get done.” As he walked, Tyr’s arms swayed through the air and each step became precise and direct. It was as though he were moving through clouds, pushing them out of the way slowly in order to advance.

This was Chakration. It was a series of unarmed techniques developed over time to assist combat against monstrous foes as opposed to human ones. Because of the massive difference in both monsters and terrain found in different regions of the world, there were literally thousands of moves that hunters could learn. It was by no means effective for hunting wyverns straight out, but it had increased the survival rate of practicing hunters significantly, although at the painfully slow speed which Tyr was practicing, it was hard to imagine it did any good at all.

Sarah, the crimson finally out of her cheeks, raised her gaze to include his face and watched him only when she noticed he had his eyes closed. She’d seen other styles before, since some hunters would occasionally demonstrate to entertain her family, but several of the moves he went through were vastly different than what she’d encountered before. Though she tried, she couldn’t even begin to make out which of the creatures Tyr had described would require the movements he made. The way he moved though, so slow and deliberate, was fascinating. She’d only ever seen Chakration done quickly.

“Excuse me, Tyr.”

“Yes?”

“Is it too late to take you up on that offer?”

“Not at all.” He waited for her to step into the circle before speaking. “What would you like to go over first? There’s weapon-specific training, movement exercises, even basic hunting trivia. Some of it has much less entertainment value, depending on your personality. But all of it,” here he paused for emphasis, “is crucial to survive out there.”

Sarah decided that it would be best to do something engaging, since the trivia could always be worked in later. “I’d like to start with those movement exercises.” Though she would’ve liked to try a weapon, she feared that her lack of physical prowess would only make for an embarrassing attempt at best.

“Alright. Movement it is. And, based on your outfit, no rolling, no flips. We’ll practice footwork then.” Sarah was glad that he was being such a gentleman. Doing flips in a skirt would’ve been far worse than not being able to lift a greatsword or a bowgun. “I want you to try to mimic whatever my feet do, alright? Same foot, same direction.”

“Sort of like a dance?” she asked, hoping it wasn’t another laughable question to him.

He only smiled. “It’s exactly like a dance.”

One step after the next, he taught her how to creep, to leap, to circle without leaving your side or back open at any point, and he never stopped when she got something wrong. When she did make a mistake, Sarah would flush, and Tyr would step again. Often, he would circle back and repeat something she’d messed up on before, but he never said a word aloud to her. All the while, Sarah watched his feet and tried to memorize each set of movements. All the while, Tyr smiled as he watched her eyes. They were at it for nearly an hour and a half before he stopped, mid-step and spoke again.

“You’re a good dancer, aren’t you?”

Both awkwardly poised on one foot, and she caught off-guard by his comment, Sarah wavered and set her foot down before answering. “Well, yes. I am. I had to be growing up where and how I did.” She eyed him curiously. “I imagine you deduced this from my comment earlier, yes?”

“I suppose that had something to do with it. But I was more clued by the way your body moved in response to your feet. You sway in a very controlled way when you move.” Her blush returned in full force. When she opened her mouth to speak, Tyr shook his head and cut her off. “Don’t bother apologizing. It’s not a bad thing to do during practice, yet.”

“Yet?” Her voice was small, and her face was still a healthy shade of pink. “That means it will be one at some point, yes?”

Tyr shook his head. “A lot of people might tell you so, but I see no reason why a fight can’t be a dance, just as long as you don’t get yourself killed because of it. Things like that only become problems if they affect your performance in battle.”

“So long as you approve.” She curtsied, ever so slightly. “Shall we continue? Or is there something else that…” The princess noted that Tyr was still on one foot and she found her curiosity overriding her upbringing yet again. “Is there some reason you’re standing like that, Tyr?”

Looking down, Tyr almost seemed confused at why his left foot was hovering a few inches above the ground. “Hmmm… it is odd, isn’t it?” He rotated his ankle slowly, as if moving it carefully around some invisible spearhead. “I suppose you wouldn’t accept that I just forgot about it?”

Sarah crossed her arms.

“It’s a hunting technique. To put it simply, the majority of weapons are either quick, light, and their wielders have to keep in constant motion to maximize the potential of their weapon, or they’re slow, powerful, and don’t allow any time for slowing further or stopping because the weight of their weapons means that any pause means either death or a loss of combat advantage.” Once more, he slowly rotated his foot. “But a longsword lies somewhere between, and its wielder must carefully time each strike, must pause and assess the situation after each slice or evasive technique in order to make sure he or she isn’t going to regret swinging again, or dodging when there’s time to strike. I’m… oversimplifying, a bit, since all hunters need that kind of knowledge, but I’ve found longsword users need it most.”

“And in what way does that transfer to you standing there on one foot, precisely?”

“I’m afraid I’ve taken the art of the longsword to a bit of an extreme. I’ve taught myself to pause _during_ movements as well, simply to make sure that I can take full advantage of any given situation. Therefore, I have to be able to stand like this, or in even-more-uncomfortable positions, without losing my balance. It’s taken years to get to this point.” He smirked as he finally set his foot down. “In other words, I’m an excellent dancer as well.”

Everything about him, besides the laughing at her expense, had impressed her. She was more than accustomed to honor, respect, and especially politeness, but he gave them a different flavor. It was enchanting, and she found herself staring at him, which she knew she shouldn’t do, and so she looked back down to his feet.

Tyr stepped forward first, and she mimicked him without thinking, her feet so used to following that she simply did so. The gap between them closed, step by step, until they were merely a foot from each other. Though the village was bustling with activity elsewhere, the air around the two was still, and when Sarah finally looked up she forgot to breathe for a moment. Tyr smiled and took her hand. “May I have this dance?”

She was both crestfallen and relieved. In her mind, the previous moment had played out a hundred different ways and her heart raced at most of them, but this hadn’t been one. It was for the best though. It couldn’t have been any other way. Not wanting to offend or refuse him, she consented and held up her other hand, naturally assuming they would be dancing in the manner she’d learned for years. This was not the case, however, as Tyr lowered her arm back to her side.

“I’m going to teach you how to dance like we do. You are, after all, in Nifila now. So, just like before.” He held her hand gently in his and they circled each other, his eyes on her eyes, hers on his feet. It was a simple enough dance to begin with, dips and cross-steps which the princess was all too familiar with, but the pace picked up quickly, and the movements became complex. Feet not just crossing feet but shins, knees. Backwards. Forwards. Twirl. Reverse. Turn, turn, kick, turn. Though she tried her best, Sarah could feel herself losing her footing, and at a certain point she could barely track his steps, much less move her own correctly. But he didn’t go back, didn’t repeat like before, just kept going and going. All at once, and just before Sarah truly lost it, Tyr stopped and bowed to her, not even a bead of sweat across his brow. “And that was ‘Nevvy’s Word.’ Enjoy it?”

Sarah took a moment to catch her breath. “Had I been able to keep up I might’ve. Can you not slow down so that I may learn at a reasonable rate?”

He shook his head. “I’m afraid no one learns it that way. You pick it up after failing a few dozen times; it’s a lot like talking to Nevvy herself.”

Although it was a bit frustrating, she accepted that small defeat and checked around. “How much longer do you imagine Natalie will be?”

Tyr glanced at the sky to check the position of Sol, the planet’s only star. “Hmm… I’m not sure, another few minutes, an hour, perhaps? I haven’t been keeping track, honestly. Nor did I know exactly how long it would be in the first place. Why, is her return that important to you?”

Even if she’d said yes, Sarah wouldn’t have had the nerve to explain her reasoning why. So, instead, she shook her head quietly. The silence that followed was unsettling. It tied Sarah’s stomach in the same knots she’d felt last night. But, just as she was about to speak, there came a new voice from the front of the house.

“Tyr! You here?” The voice was strong and masculine with a rough edge, like pine bark against the skin.

“I’m in the back with a guest. Come around.” With a shake of his head, Tyr flashed Sarah a smile. “It seems I’m popular today.”

The man who came around the house was intensely tanned, and wore armor made mostly of Basarios materials, with several hunks of Gravios shell worked in to give the armor more spikes that Sarah thought was entirely necessary. He had short black hair and was built like a Great Jagras that had just swallowed an Aptonoth, or maybe he’d swallowed one instead. Preceding him was a distinct aura of importance. “Aha! Here you are, there’s an Apceros eating some of the crops.”

“And the city guard is powerless against such a beast?”

“Village Chief told me that you know the woman who owns the beast.”

“Indeed I do, and she’s right here.” With a small step and a hand wave, he showed the large man his companion. A jaw dropped momentarily, but was quickly snapped shut in the face of duty.

“Oh, well.” His sudden speechlessness did not fail to draw out a polite nod from Sarah. She was used to people thinking they needed her permission to speak. Upon speaking again, a noticeable edge of unease appeared in the larger man’s voice. “If you would accompany me then, New Woman In Town, I’d like your help in moving the beast. That way we do not harm it.”

“I would be glad to assist you.” Turning her head, she looked back to Tyr with a small smile. “When I am done, I’ll return for more of my training. Is that alright?”

“Of course.”

“Then, lead on, …?”

Straightening up a bit more, the guard announced as formally as he could. “I’m Captain of the City Guard.”

“And I’m Good Dancer. Now, before too much is eaten, shall we go?”

“Yes!” Without a moment’s delay, Joshua turned and began walking off stiffly. Sarah giggled to herself and started off after him as quickly as she could manage. Behind them, Tyr watched and smiled, enjoying the sight of his long-time friend and professional guardsman practically running away from an unimposing young woman.

The seconds of silence that followed seemed to lengthen into hours as the two disappeared from sight. Even knowing what to do with his time, the disappointment at his sudden lack of company was all too apparent on Tyr’s face. He let out a sigh and began practicing his Chakration once more. It wasn’t long, however, before a little girl with a smile as broad as a Gobul’s dragged a large bag of assorted weaponry into the training area and interrupted his practice.

“Master Tyr!” Natalie called to him. She had waited outside the smithy the whole time, even though she hadn’t needed to. Each second of that time had only made her more impatient, and the only reason she’d stayed after the first weapon was completed was because she knew that all of the new weapons would be hers. No more sticks, no more stones, no more pretending. She was really going to be a hunter now. “I’m back!”

As her excited shouts reached his ears, Tyr turned around with a mockingly stern face. “Welcome back, Natalie. I’m glad to see you returned so quickly, but you forgot my name.”

Her chest heaving from having run all the way back with the bag full of weapons, Natalie bowed her head apologetically. “I’m sorry, Tyr. I was just so excited to get to start my training.”

“You’re forgiven. Do you need a moment, or should we start your training now?”

Somehow, the smile that had been fixed on the little girl’s face before was outdone by the newest one to spread across it. She started pulling weapons out of the red bag and placing them on the ground. Once she had the full array set out, she smiled up at her master and waited. Several moments passed without a word between them.

“Yes?” Tyr asked.

“I…” She paused, looking at the row of weapons forged just for her. “I thought that you would pick which one I was going to use first.” This pulled another chuckle from the hunter.

“Natalie, I told you that I can’t do that. You have to choose the weapon that feels right to you.”

It took her a few moments, but Natalie finally picked up one of her bone weapons. It was a blade nearly a match for her in height, but not nearly so in width, just like the ones she knew her master used in combat. She gripped the bone longsword in both hands in an attempt to keep it steady. “It’s a lot heavier than just a stick.”

“That it is. Don’t worry though, you’ll get used to it soon enough.” Her confidence meter leapt up again at those words, and she squeezed the handle just a bit tighter. “Now, you stay here, and I’ll be back with my own weapon.”

As Tyr left her alone, Natalie experimented with a few swings. The sword easily pulled her weight a bit from side to side. She couldn’t imagine how much the greatsword would pull her if the longsword was already doing this much. Before she had the chance to speculate on all of the different weapon types, Tyr came back with a new Katana, one much more simplistic than the blade he’d been training with earlier. It was, in fact, a Hardbone Katana, a blade similar to Natalie’s, but with far stronger materials for even more strength and sharpness.

“Alright, we sh-“

“Tyr! Tyr! Come quickly!” a panicked voice shouted as fists pounded against his door.

“Natalie, practice carefully, or go home.” His voice left no room for argument because he had no time to waste. “That’s a real blade, not a stick.” More shouts and another few poundings to his door only increased the speed and severity of Tyr’s instructions. “I’ll be back as soon as possible. Do not hurt yourself.”

Natalie couldn’t have objected if she wanted to, because by the time she’d come to terms with her disappointment, Tyr was already gone. She sighed, looking down at her array of weapons with a newfound sadness at their presence. The blade in her hands fell as the strength of her grip lessened, but she didn’t let the hilt slip away.

Out front, a man nearly half Tyr’s height and with desperate panic coursing through his voice explained, “The herd is being attacked by Vharalyn. I need help!” Some small part of Tyr wished the villagers would run to the Guild Hall to shout these sorts of things. But, of course, the larger part of him wouldn’t have let them.

Tyr clapped Enzo on the shoulder. “I’ll get to them. Where are they?”

“Towards the swamp!” Tears were forming in Enzo’s eyes, and Tyr was reminded why he liked being summoned at a moment’s notice. These were people who truly needed him. “Please, go quickly.”

Tyr barely heard the last two words; he was already inside throwing on pieces of azure armor. He shoved his feet and hands into boots and gauntlets, his torso into a spiked chestpiece and tasset, and plucked his helmet off his bed before grabbing the nearest sheathed katana and dashing outside. He didn’t double-check with anyone. He simply ran straight towards the smaller, northern gate and shouted “Open it!” the moment he could be heard by the watchmen. The gate opened, because everyone knew that if the Nifilan Guardian wanted through, he was going through, one way or another.

The gate opened just enough by the time Tyr reached it for him to dive and roll through the opening. Without missing a beat, he sprang back to his feet and kept running at a full sprint. It took less than a minute before he heard the Aptonoth herd bleating, but even at that speed it took a quarter of an hour, to reach the herd. It was almost too late.

In a small clearing where the herd had been grazing were now-dead bodies and deadly beasts. Blood and entrails were splattered across the flattened grass and several Vharalyn were tearing apart one of the herd’s largest females. Their fangs and claws, nearly as sharp as Tyr’s blade, ripped through flesh like it was paper. Deep crimson splotched their sleek, tanned bodies, as well as the line of serrated spines that protruded out of the predators’ backs. The felled Aptonoth’s body was surrounded by the carcasses of two younglings; both had already been devoured. The thundering of hoofs signaled the return of the main herd as they came running back towards the inevitable trap. Tyr would’ve been relieved the Vharalyn were eating, since they didn’t always hunt for food, but he didn’t have time to think, only to react.

He drew his sword and hurled himself forward. The sharp edge of a katana coated in the venomous extract of rath wyvern spikes tore through the air and cut deep into the side of one of the predators before she had time to react. Her partners leapt away and began circling Tyr. They knew their duty, and this hunter was in their way. Injured, but still able to fight, the third Vharalyn joined her companions.

Two charged him while the third moved to flank, but Tyr was no simple-minded herbivore. He lunged directly at the healthiest beast and, as she leapt, he ducked and raised his sword in an upwards arc. The blade hit, but only enough to knick the thick hide. He rolled forwards, just out of the reach of the second direct attack. The fighters regained their footing. Behind him, Tyr could feel the earth-shaking footsteps of nearly fifty Aptonoth and knew that at least another pair of Vharalyn would be chasing them. He had only a minute to take care of these three before he would be hopelessly outnumbered.

Pain and festering poison driving her, the injured Vharalyn charged forward. As she leapt into the air for her assault, she curled her body into a ball and spun. The razor-like spines on her back turned her into a deadly, slicing projectile. Tyr grinned beneath is helmet, sidestepped, and then swung his giant blade like a bat. Instead of knocking the beast back, whetted Dragonite ore met flesh, and cleaved through. Almost. His blade stuck just before piercing through the other side, and the weight of the dead beast brought him to the ground. A second Vharalyn pounced.

Tyr hit the ground hard and rolled along with the second fanged beast. Her claws dug tightly into his armor, not having fully punctured it yet. She viciously snapped at his helmet and her companion came charging in to assist. With as much force as he could muster, Tyr pulled his legs back and kicked violently into his attacker’s chest. It wasn’t enough to truly damage, but just enough to make her let go in a flinch. Taking full advantage of that moment, Tyr kicked again, sending the first Vharalyn off, but the second leapt at the same moment.

_I hate these things,_ he thought as he rolled towards the beast to get beneath its lunge. He kept his longsword close to his body, never having let go of the hilt. To let go meant death, and so did staying down. As soon as he had the space he twisted his body onto his knees, and then to his feet in a rising slash that connected with nothing but air. Tyr spun around to find his foes, his blade whirling in a high arc to keep any would-be attackers from finding their mark. He saw the herd only a few dozen meters away, and the Vharalyn even closer, both of them charging at him again.

Instead of dodging, he sheathed his sword and ran back towards the herd. He focused his internal energy, his chakra, into the palms of his hands, and they began to glow faintly. Behind him, the Vharalyn were gaining, but not nearly as fast as the approaching herd. The hunter stepped one last time before he pulled his sheathed blade over his shoulder and slammed it into the ground. He strained slightly, but he used the force and momentum to launch himself into the air above the herd. Tyr drew his blade midair, pushed his chakra through it, and slammed it down through one of the Vharalyn that had been chasing the herd.

His blade sunk all of the way through the pelagus and into the ground below. It was dead before it realized what had happened. Blood gushed forth across the rumbling ground as the herd stampeded behind him. Tyr yanked his blade free and turned just in time to roll out of the path of yet another attacker. “Don’t you ever get tired of trying to kill me?”

The roars of two more feral felynes answered his question. The stench of their sister’s spilled blood was enough to enrage them, and Tyr was already wishing he wasn’t the only person who could be called on at a moment’s notice in all of Nifila. His last attack, meant to even the odds, had drained him of a significant portion of his remaining stamina, more than he’d realized, and his labored breathing gave the Vharalyn even more reason to attack, to kill. Bloodlust coursed through the circling beasts’ bodies. This empowering rage thickened and hardened their fur; the soulless white of their eyes clouded over with ferocious red. There was little to do now but pray he had the strength to do the impossible alone.

“I don’t suppose any of you would consider switching sides?” Tyr asked, even though the monsters never took him up on those kinds of offers. All three Vharalyn were on him at once. “Guess not.”

Although he rolled a fair distance, Tyr wasn’t fast enough to avoid all three. One struck him just as he regained his footing, knocking him onto his back. The Vharalyn’s claws, extended further than usual, grazed his skin beneath the thick armor. Toxins inside the claws made the scratches burn, but none were deep enough to seep into something vital. Without time or space to spare, Tyr raised his blade up and pushed against the beast’s throat. It didn’t pierce the skin, not even as his attacker tried to bite, pushing more and more of her weight onto the cutting edge. Her fur was simply too thick to penetrate without more force; her sisters weren’t about to wait for that to happen.

As they ran to attack the supine hunter, an arrow the length of a man’s torso pierced the thick hide of the Vharalyn atop Tyr, knocking it off of him. Surprised, but not about die because of it, Tyr tucked his blade to his body and rolled towards where the arrow had come from. The feral felyne roared violently as paralyzing toxins seeped into her bloodstream. Another arrow whistled over Tyr towards it, but only managed to embed its paralytic point into the soft dirt.

A female figure with a hammer easily her size and weight charged past Tyr and swung in a wild whirlwind of blows, although none quite connected. _Kim and Leona,_ Tyr thought to himself. _Of course it’d be them who saved me._ The odds had been evened, but pack hunters weren’t the ones to look for honorable combat. Unfortunately for the Vharalyn, that meant that hunters seldom were either. As the last swing of Leona’s whirlwind thudded heavily on the ground, the Vharalyn leapt. One was knocked to the ground with another paralyzing pierce shot; a second was knocked down by the force of Tyr’s body slam. The third was taught a lesson it would take to its grave.

Despite the sheer weight of her hammer and her clumsy positioning, years of practice had given Leona enough strength to forget such trivialities. With a flash of movement, the Deep Darkhammer arced up from the ground where it had fallen, and came crashing down onto the airborne predator. There was only a split second before the full weight of the hammer squished the Vharalyn’s head between itself and the ground. Blood splashed across the hunter’s black armor and weapon, and a wicked grin splashed across her face.

A few meters away, the Vharalyn that had originally attacked Tyr was twitching slightly from the third paralyzing arrow to pierce her hide. She batted away several shots, but the toxin in her hind thigh kept her from charging or evading effectively. Adrenaline pushed her on. She ambled forward, trying to get at the bow that was causing her so much pain. Kim, clad in armor of the same material as her partner, pulled back another large arrow and let it fly. Though the Vharalyn dodged in its usual manner, its hind leg fumbled on the landing and the beast fell to the ground, rolling over itself. Taking the opportunity, the hunter quickly launched arrow after arrow into the felled beast. The toxic buildup quickly became too much for the once proud pelagus to handle. She roared weakly as her limbs seized.

“Go in peace” the archer murmured as she pulled out a final arrow. Red eyes glared helplessly up at her before being blanked by a single thrust. “Another senseless kill…” Her voice, tinged with the guilt of necessity, was softer than the gentle motion she used to slide her arrow effortlessly back out of the Vharalyn. The odds had flipped in a matter of seconds.

The final Vharalyn squared off against her original foe. Despite her fury and her lack of wounds, the beast wasn’t stupid. She was overpowered now and, more importantly to her, outnumbered. Her hunting pack was dead, and soon she would be too. As Tyr charged forward she leapt around him and ran. An honorable death was never part of her plan.

Tyr sheathed his katana and sighed. There was no reason to chase her now; most of her pack was gone. Instead, he turned himself towards the two that had saved his life and bowed as best he could. His chest and back were starting to hurt from the multiple impacts they’d taken, but that was nothing a bit of rest wouldn’t heal. The holes in his armor, however, were another matter. “Thank you for saving me,” he said.

Kim, quicker on both her feet and with her words than her sister shook her head. “There’s no need to thank us. We were only doing what was necessary.” Despite the gentleness of her voice, Tyr could tell there was an edge of bitterness directed towards him. He’d known Kim too long not to hear it.

“Right, well.” He paused long enough to begin carving a few pieces off of his felled opponents. He didn’t need their materials, but he couldn’t just leave their bodies there. “Thanks anyways. You can take what you like from the mess, I’m heading back.”

“Don’t think we’re leaving you out of our report.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to.”

“The Guild won’t like that you came out here.”

“The herdsmen don’t like it when their Aptonoth are slaughtered due to Guild regulations.”

The sisters just watched him go in silence after that, and carved the bodies as quickly as they could before lighting a signal for the Guild balloon. “That damn Tyr is going to get his license revoked soon.”

“They haven’t done so yet, sister.” Kim removed her second spine from a dead Vharalyn. “But if he keeps going like this, even Halcon can’t protect him forever.”

In town, there were cheers before Tyr could even report the news of his success. He had never come back without winning before, and some of them already knew that the Naru Sisters were sent out as well. Everyone clapped him on the shoulder or shook his hand, and, though it was painful, Tyr smiled his whole way home. Sarah and Natalie met him at his door.

“Are you hurt?” the secret princess asked.

“The people who come back from a hunt uninjured,” he paused as he stepped inside. “Are never the first ones into battle, in my experience.” Tyr stopped long enough to give Natalie a reassuring smile. “But a good hunter always comes home. If you two can excuse me though, I need some rest.”

With Tyr gone inside, Sarah glanced back. The crowd of people had already dispersed, and the town was quiet again. “Does that happen every time, little Natalie?”

“Yeah. He’s our hero.”

“What will the town do if he’s gone?”

“Tyr would never leave us.”

“I know he wouldn’t by choice. But eventually everyone ages. He…” She paused for a moment, remembering that she was speaking with a child. “He can’t live forever.”

The girl paused for a long time, unsure of what to say. “You have to ask Chief Nevvy that. She’s the only one who’d know.”

Chief Nevvy laughed at the question. “Not every town has a hero to save them, dear one. Our town was no different before Tyr came, or at least not very different, anyways. I suppose we had one fewer person, though I don’t always keep track of numbers or anything, but if I think about it… oh, nevermind. It’s not important. Where was I? Oh, right. When Tyr’s either too old, too injured, or just too fed up with hunting to be our guardian then we’ll rely on the Guild to do things again. We did it before, and we can do it again. We even do it now for a lot of things. I, myself, make almost all of my requests through them. Of course, I don’t think I’d make a very good Village Chief if I didn’t take the opportunity to cement Nifila’s relationship with the Guild. Honestly now, we won’t be rendered helpless without the aid of one man, no matter how good he is or how well-loved. Our village has been here for a long time now, though exactly how long is a matter of some speculation because it depends on whether or not you believe that the first settlement here came when they said they did the first time or not. Dreadful business for the historians, or so I’m told. Either way, far longer than Tyr has been here, and especially longer than he’s been a hunter. Besides, I hear that he’s taken little Natalie under his wing, and the girl has some potential, wouldn’t you say? I don’t know if you know about hunting potential, I know I don’t know much about it myself, but I certainly would say she has it. Then again, I’ve also known both her and her parents since they were born, and was there for their births, in fact. Lovely and joyous occasions, each of them. I’m sure she’ll make a fine ‘town hero’ should Nifila ever lose its Azure Flame.”

“But, the Guild hasn’t done all that well here, from how the villagers have reacted,” Sarah interjected as Nevvy served her a hot cup of tea.

“There’s always a shortage of hunters in villages like ours, dear one, and so there’s always only so many people that are helped anyways. While Tyr was gone today, someone else who might have needed him could’ve come along just as easily as not. I’m told Natalie learned that the hard way, poor thing. Even with Tyr there are villagers who must deal with losses and setbacks, such is our way. I know it must be hard for you to understand, being from a city as large as Fahrenn, which you simply must tell me about some day. I’ve always had a dread fascination with the desert, but I could never tolerate the climate, you know? It does terrible things to my hair. But that’s the way life has to be. Wyverns, Pelagii, and even herbivores always have and, presumably, always will outnumber anything like you and I on this planet. No one even quite knows why, but what does it matter why? Our ancestors knew this when they built our village, and the Ancients before them must have known it when they built their castles and towers and cities, and no doubt our progeny will survive through the imbalance as we do now. You haven’t even touched your tea. Is something the matter? I haven’t made you sick, have I? Oh, that would be just awful of me.”

It was unsettling that Nevyra’s arguments made as much sense as they did. What was worse is that she wasn’t even arguing. She was explaining. “I suppose I’d never thought of it all that way before.”

“Few do.”


	3. The Wings of Change

Stroke after stroke, a pair of sharpened bone blades cut into the not-so-tender flesh of a training dummy. Natalie's blades glowed white with stamina-consuming rage, but it sapped her so quickly that she could only release the one flurry. From a more comfortable position in the shade, her two mentors discussed her progress.

"You say she only been training witchoo for two weeks?"

Tyr nodded. "She's got potential, no?"

"Hmph." Prox was never one to admit to anything. He was well-built, even by hunter standards, with Rathalos-red hair and a real knack for dual blades. More than once, he'd been in deep dung for refusing to give an alibi to Guild investigators. Even if Natalie had already managed to achieve the full red of demonization, Tyr doubted Prox would've grunted any louder. "So why call me in?"

"I can't keep teaching her. She chose me before choosing her weapon style and I don't know anything about Duals besides what you've told me. I hate to disappoint her, but I don't really have any other options at this point."

"This ain't got nothing to do with that Dancer girl?"

"It's the Guild."

If Prox were anyone else, he might've cringed. "That bad, eh?"

"It's worse." Tyr got up just as Natalie was finishing another of her still-strained attack combinations. "Natalie, come over here for a minute. I'm afraid that I've taught you all that I know about the art of dual blades. That's why I've asked Prox to take over as your tutor."

Her face contorted with disbelief that soon changed to anger. "You promised!"

"No, I didn't." Tyr's voice was hard enough to snap that anger for a moment. "I agreed to train you, and I have done all that I can. I'm sorry, Natalie, but if you want someone to help you become a better dual blade hunter then you'll have to train with Prox."

The tears forming in her eyes threatened to fall at any moment, but Natalie wouldn't cry in front of her master. She ran past the incoming Sarah, and Tyr could only sigh. "Why did Natalie run away so quickly?" Sarah asked. "Is she off on another training exercise?"

"Not this time," Tyr had to admit. "I had to turn over her training to Prox."

"Whatever for? I'd thought that everything was going so well."

"Tyr insisted I do it. For personal reasons," Prox interjected. "He can't teach her no more in the art of dual blades, which I happen to specialize in. Speakin' o' which, I got to get to plannin' how to teach her now." Prox wasted no time in departing, not even for a goodbye, which left Tyr and Sarah with a silence neither wanted to address.

"How have you been getting along in the village?"

"It's been lovely. Everyone here is so kind and helpful, even though none of them know of my past. I notice that you've been rather busy as of late."

"The Vharalyn have been unusually aggressive in the past few weeks. No one's quite sure why, and Elik is getting even less sleep than I am with all of the repairs he's had to do."

"I heard. Has the Guild found out anything?"

"If they had, I'm certain the news would've reached me by now."

There was a lot that each felt they couldn't say. He didn't add anything about his suspicions of there being secrets; the Guild always had its secrets. She didn't mention the rumors that he was being investigated, assuming he already knew. Neither would mention how their eyes never met once, because neither wanted to admit to it.

"So, why come here today?"

Sarah brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "I just wanted to see you again before I left. It's been a long time, and you were so kind to me when I first arrived."

"I'm glad you remember me."

"I can't seem to forget you," she admitted unintentionally. So, quickly, she added, "I've been practicing that dance you showed me on my first day. Would you like to see?" Tyr gave her a smile; it was just something small, but it made Sarah feel warm. She curtsied, offering him the same hand he'd once given her. "Would you like to join me?"

"I wish that I could. But the other day I went up against a Lyolyn who really didn't like me." Sarah gasped as Tyr showed her the bloody bandages along his right side. "It's not as bad as it looks."

Forcing herself to trust his words over her imaginations, Sarah stepped slowly into Nifila's most-difficult local dance. All of her practice showed, but she couldn't help but feel like she'd never get the hang of the dance, especially not when she was focusing so much on what Tyr thought. "You've definitely gotten better," Tyr said as she finished, "but you're still a little bit slow. Nevvy certainly talks faster than that."

Because she was trying to calm her breathing, Sarah didn't respond right away. She took the seat which Prox had vacated, doing her best to not sit too close. "I've also found someone to help teach me how to hunt, since you were occupied."

"Really? And who have you granted that pleasure to?"

"Black Arrow. She's one of the Naru…" Sarah stopped when she saw Tyr shake his head. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"Kim and Leona and I have never been on the best of terms. They're good hunters though, and Kim's very good at what she does." He paused, considering his next words carefully. "I suppose this means that you've taken up the bow?"

"It does, yes. I was told it suits my body type best."

"Tch." Tyr gave Sarah a hard look. "Don't ever let anyone tell you what suits you. A hunter is meant for whatever weapon calls to her. Not what someone says she's meant for."

"And how does one know when a weapon is calling them?"

"You just have to feel it. You try them all until one fits better than the rest. It's how I came to longswords, and how Natalie learned she wanted to use dual blades." With a sigh, Tyr rested himself back against the wall of his house. "It's something so many try to overcome with harsh training; it even works, a little. People have a calling, though, a weapon and a style that they're meant for."

"I'd never heard of that before. Do many hunters believe this?"

"I guess not," he sighed. "Care to show me what you've learned?"

Sarah might've died from embarrassment had she had to say yes. Luckily, she had a perfectly good excuse. "I'm afraid I don't have a bow of my own to show you with. The one I use is one of Black Arrow's."

"Would you like one of your own?"

The Smith, Elik, was more than happy to oblige Tyr, even if it was a bit of an odd request. "You've brought me more than enough materials over the years to help with projects around town. I'll even do this one for free if you'd like."

"Just like last time, I won't let you do that to yourself. Take the zenny, and get me the materials this one time," Tyr said, handing over what must have been thousands.

"As you wish. Have Good Dancer here come around back so I can figure out her pull." Inside the smithy, Sarah sighed happily.

"This heat, it's quite incredible."

"Don't mind that, just the forge. So, this some sort of engagement gift I take it?"

Even after a dozen comments over the past weeks, Sarah still turned red at the thought. "No. Tyr is just a friend." And, just as quickly, she felt herself turn blue.

"Ahh, is it a special occasion then?" The smith handed her a plain black bow. "Pull."

"I suppose so. I've recently started my training."

"I'll never understand that Tyr. He must've personally met every beautiful woman that's ever been to this town for more than an hour, and yet not a one of them has ever been more than friend to him. If it weren't for his own say-so I'd think he didn't even like them." As Elik spoke he was marking down numbers and gently adjusting her positioning.

"Oh." She didn't know what else she could say. Just thinking about Tyr with another woman upset her. It was silly to think she'd been the only woman he'd ever talked to. It was sillier to think that she could've been anything to him anyways. She had to go back home and face reality, after all. Still, knowing he'd never been with anyone else was enough to even out her mood. "May I ask a question?"

"Hmm?"

"Why… would everyone assume we're lovers if Tyr has never had one?"

The Smith laughed. "Desperate hope, I suppose. Everyone worries for him. Hunting like he does is lonely enough, so it's hard to know he goes home alone too."

"You all really care that much about his happiness?" Sarah didn't mean for it to sound like an accusation, but before she could correct herself Elik gave her a slow nod and a sad smile.

"We do." He took the bow back from her carefully. "And that should be it. I'll have it done in two hours, maybe three. It'll depend on the detail work."

"Then I shall be back for it then. Thank you, Master Smith."

Tyr was talking to someone when she exited the forge. It was Natalie's mother. She was hysterical.

"Calm down,

. Just tell me which way she went."

Sobbing, the woman spoke in such choked breaths that Sarah could only make out the last few syllables. As Tyr took off at a sprint, surely tearing his stitching, Sarah shivered. It was clear what Fretta had said: Natalie had gone to the Vharalyn's den.

Tyr ran through the fields without a scrap of armor. He didn't feel the blood trickling down his leg, or hear the gasps of his own labored breathing. All he could think of was getting to Natalie before Natalie got to the Vharalyn. It was his fault she was out here, that she'd run off when a herder had gone out to check on the Aptonoth, and he had to make sure that it was his fault she came back.

If there was anyone to see him, they might've said he looked insane. His Azure Cleaver drawn already, glowing red with his soul's anger, and wearing nothing but his now blood-stained street clothes. If the Vharalyn could understand human desperation, the two scouts might've even let him pass. Unfortunately for them, they chose to attack at the scent of blood, and neither made it to the ground alive.

Up ahead, in a clearing he'd scouted a few days ago, the Vharalyn would be lounging in the noon-day sun. They'd have made a kill by now, dragged it back to the Lyolyn and their cubs. There would be blood, but he couldn't let it distract him. If there was any chance of Natalie surviving, Tyr couldn't let anything break his concentration.

As his foot fell through the last of the tall grass, he pivoted and brought his sword arcing through the air. Nothing connected, because nothing had attacked him. It was different, yes, but he didn't have the time to consider why. He focused, took in the clearing. Where he should've seen two dozen Vharalyn he saw a bloody Naruka carcass, a silver Rathalos, a limping Lyolyn, and half a dozen dead Vharalyn. He'd been blind to not see it from a mile away, and to not hear it he may as well have been dead.

It was impossible to see if Natalie was there or not. There was too much carnage to pick out a tiny human shape, assuming she wasn't one of the casualties. Tyr couldn't calm down, wouldn't give up even if it meant diving into the middle of everything. He ran around the fight, searching for any signs of her. Surely she'd seen this and gone home. She was smart enough not to get near something this disastrous. Wasn't she?

He tripped over something in the grass as he circled the battle. It was another Vharalyn body. But it wasn't bloody like the others. The flesh of the body was so charred that Tyr couldn't even feel the fur. When he got up though, he knew why there was no fur. Everything living had been melted away, leaving only blackened bones exposed. It wasn't a Vharalyn though, it was too small.

It was Natalie.

The shock tore through him like a piercing pod. He tried to deny it, tried to reason that it was only a cub or half of Vharalyn, but there were no fangs. The eyes sockets were too small, and even if it was a cub the face was too flat. No snout. He wished that it was someone else, but what other child would've been out here? Tyr dropped to his knees and ran a hand along the skull. No hair, no eyes, nothing to separate her from any other corpse except the memories. His chakra ran freely down and around his blade, a dark, blood red.

This Los would pay.

With a furious roar, he charged. Vharalyn crowded his path, but they were mere stepping stones. He bounced off one, then another just above a swipe of the Los's tail, and then he was atop it. The silver wyvern bucked, and Tyr flew into the air. Still airborne, he flipped himself over and pointed his blade earthwards. As he fell and his katana connected, Tyr could feel his sword snapping against the Los's hide and his rage being shoved back through his arms into his heart. It was worse than a being bulldozed by a Gravios. In a moment, the Rathalos threw him back into the grass with only a hilt left to hold onto.

Tyr awoke in the infirmary with an old friend and a new one sitting beside him. Nevvy was disquietingly silent. "Don't tell me I've gone deaf," he said. His voice was hoarser than he'd expected, and he felt strange.

"Oh, thank the Ancient ones that you're alright. We were so worried that you'd died out there. Not that we thought you would ever die without saying goodbye first, but you were just gone for so long and… We heard that a Silver Rathalos had actually attacked the Vharalyn. Is that true? If so, it's incredible that you survived at all. I mean, to think that a silver Rathalos would come here of all places. They're incredibly rare, aren't they? Oh, I'm sure you wouldn't know. You've been here your whole life so how could you possibly know how rare things are outside the walls? Still, I do believe that they're quite rare and so it might explain the abnormal Vharalyn behavior. Still, I do wonder how we missed…" Nevvy continued talking about anything and everything that had happened over the past few days.

After a band of hunters had rescued him from the carnage, Tyr had been in a deep sleep which nothing had roused him from. Natalie was buried, and all of Nifila mourned the loss. A call was sent out to hunters from distant lands for help slaying the Silver Rathalos. None had answered yet, but they expected someone to arrive any day. Sarah had spent her time in the medical house with him the entire time, and had apparently looked so concerned that the Chief feared she would pass out too. Sarah flushed, but couldn't deny a word.

"And," Nevvy finally paused, but it wasn't her usual pause. There was a difficulty in it that Tyr didn't recognize from any conversation with her. "Oh, I just can't tell you. Sarah, dear one, could you tell him for me I just can't. I can't do it. I couldn't even if that Silver Los was here right now."

Tyr should've laughed. Something Nevvy couldn't talk about had to worth hearing. But he didn't laugh, he didn't even feel slightly amused, or even worried. He blamed it on being tired.

"You're," Sarah bit her lip and looked away from him, "Being sent away. The Guild won't allow you to stay here and do any more damage than you've done."

"Ha," he said, eyes closing again. There was still nothing, no emotion at all. He didn't even think it was funny, didn't really know what would be funny. "That figures."

"You're not concerned about this, Tyr? I thought for certain that you'd be upset," Nevyra said.

"Really? Oh, right. I guess I should be."

Sarah and Nevyra exchanged a look of worry more intense than all the looks they'd seen each other wear while Tyr had been asleep. "Tyr, Good Dancer and I will be just outside if you need anything. But we'll be within earshot, so you shouldn't be afraid to call on us. We'll hear you. I promise." They stepped out quietly, Sarah watching Tyr for even the slightest movement. He made none.

"I'm afraid he'll be like this for a while," Nevyra said. "A long while. When he was found, I'm sure you noticed the broken hilt in his hand, yes?" Sarah didn't like it when Nevyra spoke like other people. It was too quiet for her.

"I did. What does that have to do with his condition?"

"I'm not certain how much you know about hunting, or of weapons which can channel our chakra through them, but the longsword is one of the most common, and we have to assume Tyr was pushing an immense amount of himself through his sword when it shattered."

"So, what are you saying? That his chakra broke with his sword?" Sarah was astonished. "Is such a thing even possible?"

"No, it's not possible." Nevvy sounded more like she was trying to convince herself than Sarah. "As far as we can tell it's just extremely weak from the backlash. He'll be weak, and extremely susceptible to any kind of infection, and more prone to damage, and even most common substances like potions will have a decreased effect, and no one really knows what else. No one's seen anything like this before." Nevvy breathed deeply. "I'm telling you all of this because I'm sending him with you, and it will be your responsibility to keep him healthy until his chakra recovers. And I won't accept any excuses, either. I am  _not_  just going to send him off on his own, and I know I have no authority over you in Fahrenn, but I won't let you out of this village without him. Am I clear on that, Princess?"

Sarah almost smiled at the threat. She wouldn't have disagreed if she'd been told to by her father. "I understand."

"Then there's only one more thing you need to know." Nevyra's voice sounded pained, and Sarah thought she saw teardrops in the corner of an eye. "I'm afraid it's not just that Tyr's being sent away. He can't come back."


	4. If The World So Demands

The Guild took away everything. All of the weapons and armor that Tyr had acquired were deemed illegally obtained and confiscated. His item list was blank, after all, and yet there he was with all of his fancy gear. His house was abandoned and, together with Sarah, he left his only home behind. Everyone showed up to say goodbye, and each gave him a parting gift, along with a new and completed item list, just to be sure. The cart they wheeled them out on was so large it took four Aptonoth to pull it along.

Tyr tried to protest, as weak as he was, but no one would listen to him. The herdsman insisted that he'd saved the Aptonoth, and so they were his. Similar excuses were made for all of the food and hand-made gifts. Elik even brought him a new katana, one which the Guild had only allowed due to its lack of strength, which they allowed every new hunter. "You might be better off hunting with a stick," he laughed. "But I'm sure you'll be slaying elder dragons with it in no time."

The blade itself was beautiful, crafted from a rare coral from the New World which glowed a deep blue. The coral had been mixed with machalite ore to keep it from breaking too easily, but the blade was barely as sharp as an Iron Katana. Into the hilt, the word "Nifila" had been engraved on one side and "Guardian" on the other.

As Sarah watched each person in town come to personally send him off, she couldn't help but cry a little. She didn't see Tyr crying though. He didn't even look sad. He was blank. The chakra overload must've done so much more than she could imagine. It took all morning, even though they'd started at sunrise. And even as everyone dispersed, headed back to their homes, Sarah couldn't help but wish that the procession never had to end. She knew Tyr would be going with her, but he could never see his home again.

The last of the people left to see him off were Nevyra, Halcon, and an older couple that Sarah had only seen a few times around town. They had been at the infirmary the first time she'd been there, and though she didn't know it they'd been there far more often than that. She had never seen them speak to Tyr, but, then again, she'd seen Tyr so rarely that she had no idea who he'd spent most of his time with. There was something familiar in them which she only recognized when she looked back to Tyr.

His parents walked to him, neither saying a word, and they hugged him for a long time. They didn't say anything, didn't move from that moment in time, they just held him in their arms. How long they all stood there, Sarah didn't know, but it could've never been long-enough when they both let go. Each gave him a kiss, made some small gesture with their hands that Sarah couldn't really see, and then they walked back into Nifila and out of Tyr's life.

A mile from the outer walls, a small contingent of black-armored men and women approached the cart, leading the princess' carriage behind them. There were a dozen of them – her father must have heard about the Los - and their leader was a man in full Brute Tigrex armor, Orion, the Climbing Captain. "Young Princess," he said in a warm voice. "We're here to escort you back home." The other cart was hard not to notice, and so was the hunter leading it. "Can I ask who your companion is?"

"His name is T…" She paused, almost forgetting that she couldn't possibly say what she had almost said. "He is Broken," she said, hating herself for the adjective. "Broken Man. He is a hunter who has fallen on difficult times. It is my wish that he accompany us back to Fahrenn, where he be given a chance at a new life, with the guard if he so chooses." Her wish was their command, as always - so long as her father didn't say anything to the contrary.

The carriage ride was not a fun one. Other people were only allowed inside the royal carriage when Sarah invited them in. Her guards could only speak to her as needed, or when spoken to. And she was expected to sit in the rainbow hues of the Plesioth scales, looking outside only to make sure they were still on course. It was desperately dull and lonely. After almost a full day of it, Sarah decided that she was going to do it her own way instead.

"T-Broken Man, how are you today?" she asked, emerging from the carriage in motion. He didn't respond at first. So, closer, she tried again. "Tyr?"

"I'm fine."

"Do you want to talk about something?"

"Like?"

"Well," she hesitated. It hadn't really occurred to her that she would also need a topic. He had always brought them up before. "How about hunting? You did say you had a lot of trivia."

"Yeah. What did you want to know?"

"You said there were some monsters unique to Nifila, yes? Tell me more about them."

"The Xiloukana," he said in a dull monotone, "is a fearsome beast that dwells deep in the swamplands. It preys on anything that moves, even its own kin. Most creatures know better than to approach an unfamiliar mass in the slime, but there are always those unlucky hunters and beasts that end up as its next meal."

Sarah was listening, but she found it difficult to pay attention to him. That wasn't Tyr. That wasn't how he spoke. It was like listening to a bad impersonation of Tyr.

"Xiloukana have mouths so large they can fit a Bulldrome inside, and jaws so powerful that they can crush that same Bulldrome in a single snap. They're rarely seen, and seldom hunted because of their sheer might. I remember the last hunter to kill one on his own. He came from far away, seeking a challenge for his blade. I can't remember what his name was, or where he was from. I was only seven. He went out with only his longsword and came back with teeth big enough to craft a sword from."

"He killed it by himself? No one else helped him at all?" She hoped that this part of the story might at least excite him, might elicit some response.

But it was no use. "If someone did, I never saw them. They might have left earlier or later than he did, but, however many left, only he came back. He never said a word to me, but he helped write the ecological notes for the Xiloukana. According to them, the Xiloukana can tear down trees in its violent rages, and is intensely difficult to approach because of how it thrashes. I've never been able to find one, and never needed to."

For a moment, Sarah thought she could hear his passion again, thought she could detect a little piece of who she remembered, but the blankness returned so quickly she couldn't be sure it wasn't just her imagination. She wanted him to just feel better. She wanted him to shake his head and look at her with his eyes full of life again, to smirk, but she couldn't really expect him to do that. She couldn't, but she did all the same. "That's interesting. Speaking of interesting, it seemed like the whole village was there to send you off." It was probably a bad idea to talk about it, but she had to say something to make him feel something.

He didn't. "Not quite. I didn't see some of the elders or three of the Guild's felynes. And the lookouts."

"But… it was still most of them. And your parents were - well, at least I thought they were your parents - at the end?"

"They were."

"They… didn't say much."

"More than you know." He stumbled over a rock, but caught himself. Was it a sign of something? Or was it just a rock? Sarah wished she could tell, but there was nothing to him. No warmth, no cold, just an emptiness where a person's aura should be. "My mother was born without a voice, and my father has refused to speak since they married. I was raised speaking one language to the village, and signing another at home."

Sarah didn't have to feign interest in this news. She had heard of certain people who did similar things, though usually it was for the deaf, and not the mute. It was a touching story, and Sarah tried smiling at him, but he didn't smile back. He didn't even acknowledge her smile with anything more than that lifeless stare. As much as she wanted to, as much of a hold as he had on her, Sarah couldn't stand talking to such an emotionless shell, especially not after knowing what that shell had been. So, with a quiet goodbye, she went to talk to her guardsmen, and tried to forget about who Tyr used to be.

For the first time in her life, Sarah had real conversations with the men and women who had been hired for generations to protect her family and her kingdom. Not all of them felt comfortable with her at first, but most of them softened at her insistence on their informality. She was shocked to learn that Molin and Jaruk weren't actually twins at all, just good friends who happened to look and dress very similarly. She was just as surprised to hear about how many of them had families which they were the sole providers for, and how few of them had any interest in hunting until necessity pushed them onto the path. Some of them weren't even Hunters at all, but Knights. She'd thought that all of the Knights in the kingdom were at the castle, but it seemed a foolish thought after realizing that her family weren't the only ones who might be targeted by someone dangerous.

Still, the majority were Hunters, and there were those few who hunted because it was their calling. These few fought for loved ones or for themselves, for their pride or for glory. Whatever their reasons, Sarah could feel the same energy from them as she'd noticed in Tyr when he spoke. If she stood close enough, she could almost feel the excitement in their chakras through her own.

The most obvious of these was the Climbing Captain, who spoke with a smile about how he loved mounting monsters. "There's a rush to it. One you can't get anywhere else." His black armor gleamed in the sunlight, but Sarah also couldn't help but feel afraid of it. Tigrex armor did that to her, for everyone. It was something in how chakras interacted with one another. But a monster's chakra, unlike a person's, was so much more powerful, even dead.

"Even the Tigrex?"

"Oh, right," the Captain said, taking a step further away from the Princess. The hairs on the back of her neck laid back down. "Sorry about that. Sometimes I forget that not everyone lives their life in constant fear of their own armor."

"Why is it that you would want to fear your own armor?"

"That's… a very good question, Young Princess," Orion scratched the back of his helmet. Could he feel it? She doubted it, but there were many mysteries of chakra and armor she didn't understand. "The best answer I can give is that it means I'm not as afraid of whatever I'm fighting. When you're always afraid, nothing scares you as much. Does that make sense? I probably sound like I'm crazy. Please, uhh, don't have me fired, okay?"

"I wouldn't!" Sarah tried to reassure him by stepping closer, and involuntarily shuddered when her chakra came back in touch with the armor's. "What I mean to say…" she began, stepping back to a safe distance. "Is that you don't need to worry about that with me, Climbing Captain."

"Glad to hear it. Most of us are just normal people, after all."

There was one, however, who wasn't just a normal person.

He was a Wyverian with an incredibly large and razor-edged axe, and he was purely a hunter. He was small for a Wyverian of his age, lanky, quiet, and deadly by all accounts, including his own. The Death Stench armor definitely helped the image.

"To kill."

Sarah clutched the edge of her dress in one hand. "You hunt just to kill?"

"Yes. It's better than killing other people," he said. "Wyverns provide a challenge."

"You were… an assassin before you became a guard?" Everyone knew that assassins existed, but Sarah had never actually met a person who would admit to it.

"It suited me. This suits me better." His voice was quiet and easy. If Guard of Death weren't explaining death to her, Sarah might've thought him shy or nervous. "Is that all, Young Princess?"

"If I may be so bold, did you tell the Commander this? And, if so, why did she let you into the guard?"

"I'm a good hunter. The best."

Sarah looked for a smirk, a shrug, or even a twinge of pride in his eyes. There was nothing, though not the same nothing as Tyr's. He was quiet for his own reasons, a quiet like a mountain, or an empty field. Perhaps even a graveyard. Whichever it was, an angry roar kept Sarah's next question in her throat.

Guard of Death drew out his axe in a slow, deliberate motion. Glistening Akura Vashimu crystals cut through the air so finely that Sarah swore there was a slight ringing to it. He said nothing, and Climbing Captain had to pull Sarah away from the frontline. A Barroth charged through the thin row of trees in the distance. They were getting close to home.

She reluctantly climbed into the carriage, but insisted the door stay open so she could watch. As strong as she'd heard a Barroth could be, it stood little chance against the power of four trained guards.

Guard of Death was certainly the most powerful among them. As the Barroth charged in towards the guardsmen, the others scattered. He stood firm, and he charged his energy through his axe before delivering a powerful blow to the side of the beast's head, throwing the brute wyvern off course at the last moment. There was no hesitation, only a follow-through against the Barroth's side that drew blood through the mud covering its hide. The other guards rushed in, slashing, bashing, and raining down a slew of bullets on the disoriented beast.

And no matter what his teammates did, Guard of Death pushed forwards. He didn't seem to care what the rest of his team did, his swings often just narrowly missing them only because they managed to roll out of the way. And when they didn't miss, Sarah started and nearly rushed out. The guardsman was fine, perfectly fine, of course. The Guild made certain that their hunters couldn't hurt each other, even if Sarah wasn't entirely certain how. But it was one thing to hear it, and another to see it in action. She swallowed her heart back down beneath her throat as the axe lopped off the Barroth's tail, and then charged forwards to strike it again and again. As slow as each swing was, his timing was brilliant, and before Sarah realized the fight was winding down it was already over. Guard of Death didn't even carve, just lit a signal torch to alert the Guild.

"He's incredible; wouldn't you say, Tyr?"

Tyr had watched from where he was standing, practically motionless. He hadn't blinked once in the five minutes the fight lasted. "He's going to get himself killed."

"I don't understand."

"He's an excellent fighter. His timing is near-perfect, and he knows his weapon as well as his enemy, but he's fighting only to kill."

"How did you know that?"

"He doesn't carve. He doesn't care about his allies. Someone like him will eventually be killed by the first thing to overpower him, because he has no reason to live beyond that day."

"That's a bit extreme."

Tyr shrugged and turned away from the door as it began to rumble along again. "A real hunter doesn't just kill."

"He's doing it to protect people now. Even if he only wants to kill, that's been given a purpose." Sarah barely knew Guard of Death, but she did know the city guard. They didn't deserve death for not mutilating a corpse. Even if he was a bit careless, he knew that he couldn't hurt the other guards, and that made it okay.

"You don't know a thing about hunting, Princess." Tyr's voice was sharp and cold without emotion to back it up, so much so that Sarah recoiled slightly. "Tell me that again when you've looked into the eyes of something with enough power to devour you a hundred times over and had to end its life, knowing it was protecting something just like you were."

She bit back her words and her anger. It was true that she didn't know much about hunting, and there was something about hunters like Tyr and Guard of Death that suggested they knew something which no other person could ever know. Silently, Sarah resolved to find that knowledge by becoming a hunter as well. She wouldn't stop until she could look Tyr in the eye and tell him she'd done just as he'd said.


	5. The Need to Defend

Fahrenn was gorgeous in the first rays of sollight. Sarah had rarely seen the massive city walls from so far away before, and never in the morning like this. Its etched walls of red, impossible to miss in the desert even at night, glowed passion and romance. The silver-lined peaks of her father's castle were lost within all of that color.

Had it only been two months since she'd been gone? Had it always had such a glow about it? It couldn't have gained a glow like that in such a short time, and yet from inside the walls that beautiful glow wasn't so noticeable. She looked across the carriage at Tyr with a smile she didn't know she was wearing, but which didn't last very long either. She'd insisted he ride inside for a bit each day, hoping he would recover faster than walking all that time. Tyr was looking at the same red as she was, but he was only looking, nothing more.

He had improved little in two weeks of travel, and Sarah feared that he would never recover. But there had to be hope. Nevyra had said the future was uncertain, but two weeks was hardly any time at all to recover - especially not two weeks of travel. So, she let him rest, and tried not to speak to him so that she wouldn't remember why she wasn't speaking to him.

"It's beautiful," she said to Guard of Death, whom she'd taken to speaking with despite his silence. Sarah had found him an excellent sounding board, and insightful when he felt like being so.

"It's meant to be. Monsters fear beauty."

"I would've thought they feared nothing. The most powerful wyverns I've seen are not that beautiful." She shook the image of the Rathalos out of her head. "They're terrifying."

"To you, yes. To them, beauty is poisonous and treacherous. Terror is just a form of beauty out in the world, Young Princess." He nudged the hilt of his axe as he rolled his shoulders back. "Something royalty seldom knows."

"We are not all the same, you know."

"No one is." He grabbed his axe and stopped her with his other hand. "But you all die the same." A Black Diablos sprung up out of the sands as if on cue, barely thirty meters from them. Sarah, now more than used to the interruptions, turned towards the Plesioth carriage when a second Diablos, this one tan with a single horn, burst through it from below. Tyr's body was tossed high into the air, and Sarah felt time slow down.

His body looked as small as any of the other carriage pieces, but it didn't shine in the light like they did. From where she stood, he was just a rumpled form a few dozen feet above an angry Blos. A rock, a pebble, a stone, a dot, a speck could've been larger than him and held more life. Soon, like a stone, he would fall and shatter against the Blos's hammer-like tail, or be skewered by its last horn.

It all happened faster than she expected, reality often did, but the Blos's screams left her barely able to function beyond her eyesight. Tyr fell, smacked hard against the titan's crest, and then rolled off to the ground below. In the sand, he stumbled for a moment, ducking almost on cue below a quick backwards kick as the brute wyvern readied its charge. Then, somewhere beyond the echoes of the ringing in her ears and the faint clattering of heavy armor, Sarah swore she could hear Tyr's blade break the straps that held it in its sheath. The Aptonoths carrying his cart were sprinting away towards the city.

The wyverns barely noticed at first as the swarm of hunters came at them, weapons drawn and swinging for the kill. They were too busy clashing with each other, charging through the sands and tearing at each other's hides with their tails and horns. Despite how broken he looked, the single-horned Blos was the more fearsome of the two. He slammed the blackened female while Sarah tried to remember all she knew about Diablos and their tendencies. Why they would fight each other instead of the hunters, but before she could remember there was another piercing roar that consumed her very being.

Only Orion and Jaruk seemed unfazed by the roars, while Tyr seemed particularly affected. Tyr was also obviously a shadow of himself. His attacks bounced off the thick hides of the Diablos, and he was much slower than the other hunters when it came to reaction times to dodge or attack. Sarah knew that most of it had to be his condition, but at least some was the desert. The Firias Desert wasn't easy to hunt in, or so she'd been told. In fact, Tyr would've been killed if it hadn't been for the others - that much was obvious, even to her.

Sarah was never certain why the wyverns never seemed to notice her. Maybe she just wasn't enough of a threat to them. Maybe she was simply too far away. It was likeliest, she thought, that they were too occupied with the fight to notice something so far away. Carefully and slowly, she pulled back an imaginary bowstring and aimed for the black beast in the distance. "Know your distance. Know your target. Know you'll hit." She let the imaginary arrow fly, but couldn't picture it hitting the Diablos, even as it flinched from one too many blows to the head.

Tails, blades, and bodies swung through the flurry of flung sand and blood, making it nearly impossible to see anything below the wyverns' wings. It was like watching a parade coming through the streets from her room. She knew that below the impressive displays there were people moving and operating levers and buttons, but she could never see them. The only difference here was the tightening in her stomach at every human shout, and the all-consuming roars which rooted her to her spot.

Then, the darker Blos disappeared, and a trail of sand flew up as it raced off into the distance. Some of the haze drifted away with the disappearance of the large beast, but only enough that she could now make out a crumpled black figure on the ground. Although there'd been a few battles along the road, and many of them had been intense, never before had Sarah seen someone actually fall. She stepped forward, trying to recognize the downed guardsman. Before she knew it, she was kneeling next to the body to pull away the helmet. It was Orion, and he was still alive.

"Where are your potions?"

"P… pouch. Side." He coughed a bit of blood, spattering Sarah's dress. Sarah, more deftly than she realized, flipped open the small side pouch and grabbed two vials with a thick, green liquid inside. She forced him to swallow, and the moment the potion hit his stomach, Orion's whole body was revitalized. Sarah did the same with the second vial, and before she could even close his pouch, Orion was sitting up on his own. "Thank you," he said lowly, reaching for his dual blades. "You're better than the Felyne Rescue Squad."

Whether or not he meant it, it made Sarah happy to be of some use. She helped him to his feet and turned just in time to see the single-horned Diablos let loose a cry of rage and despair. Orion was on his feet and in front of her almost as quickly as the potion had worked. There was a disquieting comfort in knowing that so many people would throw themselves in front of a charging wyvern for her. Even as she thought about this, those same hunters brought down the devil-like Diablos, and Orion visibly relaxed.

Sarah took off across the sands to find Tyr. She had to make sure he wasn't dying, or actually dead. To her relief, he was being clapped on the back by Molin and Jaruk. He'd done well in his condition, but his clothes were in tatters and he was bleeding from several large gashes. Everyone but Guard of Death seemed in good spirits, except Tyr. He had on that same blank expression he'd had since Nifila. Jaruk handed Tyr a few potions as she came closer.

"Nice work. Broken Man, wasn't it? You ever fought one of those before?"

"Never," Tyr replied, gulping down the potions one at a time. "Was that a Monoblos or Diablos?"

"Diablos. Both of them." Orion cut in and, after one look at the scattered shards of the carriage, sighed. "I guess we'd better gather what we can salvage and run home. If we're quick, we can make it home before nightfall. That means you lot!" There were no questions asked, or objections given. The guards set to work while Sarah tended to Tyr.

As she looked around for something clean to wipe the blood away, Sarah knew that the potions were already stemming the blood flow to his injured areas and boosting his physical strength back to normal. His body would heal to near perfection whether or not the blood was wiped away, but she didn't want to risk infection with his weakened chakra. By the time she gave up and ripped off a few centimeters of her knee-length skirt, the blood had already clotted thickly.

Carefully, she dabbed away the blood and made sure that he got new clothes from the wreckage. It wasn't much besides a vest and a new pair of blue pants, but it was much better for everyone than the scraps he'd been left with. Then they were off, jogging across the desert together towards her home. She, of course, wasn't allowed to carry anything, but there wasn't much to carry anyways.

They had to stop and rest far more often than anyone would've liked to allow Sarah to catch her breath, or for Tyr to do the same. Every step that brought her closer to home was also one the group had to worry about. All they could to do was outrun the sudden eruptions of crustaceans or wyverns if they were going to make it back alive. Without the rest of their supplies there was a slim chance more than half of them would make it through the ice-cold desert night and the nocturnal beasts that thrived in that cold.

Even though she could barely keep running without panting, the silence of footstep after footstep in the sand got to Sarah. On their next rest break, she asked if there was anything they could do to fix the problem, and the guardsmen readily agreed there was.

"It's not something you'll be able to fully appreciate," Orion said to her before they began jogging again. "But it'll be noise, at least."

"Hunting monsters day and night," the Captain called out, each syllable landing on a footfall.

"No one else would have the might." The guards all responded in unison, and Sarah would've laughed if she hadn't needed the breath to keep herself going.

"Serve me up some Daimyo."

"When we're done we'll get some mo'."

"Nothing like a capture quest."

"'Cept going home to get some rest."

They volleyed this way for so long that Sarah didn't notice how tired she was until she nearly collapsed from the fatigue. Tyr, directly beside her, managed to grab her arm before she could go too far down. "We should give their voices a rest," he said.

She leaned against him for support before she knew what she was doing. "Yeah." So close to him, she noticed for the first time just how muscular he really was. For someone of his size and physique, Sarah would have only expected him to be toned, not quite so strong. Every inch of his chest and arms was firm to the touch, and yet he gripped her so softly that she wouldn't have known otherwise. She was so entranced that she forgot to pull away.

"Princess," the Captain coughed.

Startled to the point of a blush, Sarah backed away from Tyr so fast that she stumbled and nearly fell again. She caught herself this time, and bowed her head. "Right, I think I'm better now. We should continue."

Because Fahrenn was so large, it never seemed to get any closer, even as Sol flew across the sky. It was only a few hours till solset, and the city covered most of their forward view, but they still couldn't make out the main gates. Luckily, the chanting was keeping everyone in high spirits, and the only wyvern threats they'd seen were at a distance easily avoided. Sarah's muscles ached, but she pushed through so she wouldn't slow them down even further.

As day turned to evening, and Sol burned an even deeper red than it had at dawn, the entire world burned. The walls, the sand, everything without a color strong enough to keep became crimson. They were more than an hour from the gate though, and temperatures were rapidly falling. When they stopped to rest, Sarah shivered and Tyr hugged her unexpectedly. He was warm despite how thinly dressed he was.

"Wh-what are you doing?" she asked, flushing and trying to pull away despite the comforting embrace.

"You need warmth. None of them can help with their armor on." This seemed reasonable enough. "Besides, I'm cold too. We're helping each other." Sarah would've never guessed, there against him, that he could even feel the cold, but she believed he wouldn't lie to her either. So, she nestled herself a bit closer and every guard watched Tyr like a hawk to make sure his intentions were pure. Some of them were more than happy to have an excuse to watch the princess anyways, but all tightened their fists whenever Tyr tightened his hold.

For the next hour, they continued this way. All anyone had was cool drinks since their supply of hot drinks had been lost in the attack. So, as much as anyone would've loved to give the Princess an excuse to stay away from Tyr, they had none, and the gate was just one more jog away now.

"Home is so close now," she whispered to herself, forgetting about Tyr's proximity for a second. "Everything I left behind…"

"I can't imagine how you must feel," Tyr whispered back in her ear. Sarah nearly leapt out of her skin.

When she regained herself, something which took a bit longer than she would've liked, she said "I'm sorry. I didn't even think of… I'm sorry." Hoping no one would see her, Sarah turned her head and bit her lower lip. There was a lot more waiting at home than her father and her old life.

"I'd like to say there was something to forgive, but it's okay." There was a hint of warmth behind his words, or maybe she was just imagining it, but Sarah wished the words meant something more than they ever could. There was a roar, so loud that Sarah shuddered from its echoing through her soul. The Black Blos was back.

Sarah didn't see it, but could hear the stomping behind them. She was still paralyzed, and now she was going to die without even facing her killer. When her feet left the ground she felt no pain, and couldn't see a thing besides the inside of her eyelids. Was her death really so instant that she hadn't felt it? Then she felt the world flip and heard the sounds of metal on carapace behind her. There was also an odd pressure behind her knees that was keeping her feet from the ground. It was Tyr. He had her in his arms and was watching the battle intently. They were so close that she felt the rush of wind from the Blos's tail swipes. Tyr never flinched, and rarely blinked.

She couldn't help but study his face as he watched the fight. There was so little there to gauge emotion through, but somewhere behind those eyes of blue and hazel there were shards of his former hunter's spirit desperate to get out. How she recognized them as such was anyone's guess. Even when the Blos screamed again, Tyr didn't drop her. The pain in his head was excruciating at that volume and distance, but he didn't cover his ears even as his knees buckled.

However much of a surprise the Blos may have given them, it was still weakened from earlier in the day. The guards were weary, at a loss for stamina in the icy desert night, but sheer numbers and the ability to switch out members made up for their lack of staying power. After a short while, the darkened Diablos fell into a heap, and Guard of Death lit a signal for the Guild balloons once more. As he did, Sarah found herself on her feet. "Sorry to grab you like that. There was no other way to save you."

'It's fine," she said, rubbing a bit of heat back into her legs. "We're close to home now. Well done everyone!"

At the gates to the city, Orion knocked loudly, presented a few forms, and they were allowed inside through one of the smaller doors built into the main entrance. Inside the walls it was bright with glowlamps hung in the streets. There were people everywhere, still conducting business, and some just starting their day. Nighttime here was so vastly different than night in Nifila where the town went quietly to sleep with Sol, and woke with it too. Sarah breathed in the mix of desert spices, tanned hides, and sand, and felt all of her weariness drown in a sea of familiarity.

No one recognized her, which was a bit off-putting, but when she remembered her state of dress and the missing carriage, the surprise was all but gone. Of course no one thought that she was herself. She didn't look like a princess at all, even if her face was the same. Rather self-aware, she pulled the hem of her skirt down as best she could and hid amidst the guards on the trip back to the castle. People cheered and hollered at the guards, excited by their return, but perplexed as to who this new couple was they were guarding.

At the castle, Sarah's sister and father were waiting for her. King of Fahrenn was an impressive man who could've easily passed for a Wyverian if it weren't for his round ears. His hair was darker than both of his daughters', and so was his skin. Her sister, who introduced herself as Stunning Princess, seemed enthused to be reunited with her sibling, and even moreso about Tyr.

"My, my, little sister. Short skirts and scantily clad personal servants? What did that village do to you?" She winked at Sarah and led her inside. "Father, I've got to get this one inside and away from prying eyes." Before anyone could object, they were out of sight.

"My daughters," King of Fahrenn sighed. "So, who is this? I don't remember my daughter mentioning a new servant, needed as he might have been out there."

"He is Broken Man, King, a former hunter from Nifila who has come here to begin a new life. Your daughter has suggested that he be let into the guard so that he might make a better life for himself and protect your family in the process." Tyr eyed the Captain as he spoke. He'd left out much, but he'd also said just enough.

"Broken Man?" He sounded skeptical. "How exactly did he come across a title like that as a hunter?"

"His chakra was broken, King."

"Broken?" he asked loudly. Apparently, he was above formality in his own castle.

"By a silver Rathalos," Tyr said, catching almost every guard off-guard. "I'd never fought something so strong before. I was angry and attacked when I should have run."

"I see." King of Fahrenn stepped forward and placed a hand on Tyr's shoulder. "I'm sorry Broken Man, but I thank you for your honesty. You've a place in the guard if you need it. My daughter's recommendation, as silent as it might have been, is good enough for me."

Down the halls and in a locked chamber, Sarah was preparing for a bath while her sister lay with her hair falling off the side of Sarah's bed. "You can't possibly expect me to believe that you don't have something going on with him. He's gorgeous. And you say he's a hunter too?" Stunning Princess had always been predictable. A month away and the first thing on her mind was a pretty face.

"Tyr has fallen on rough times. I took it upon myself to help him because I can. Isn't that what father has taught us to do?"

"Tyr?" her sister asked, rising up from the bed with a new enthusiasm. Sarah winced at her carelessness. "That can't be his title. What would that even mean? That means that…" Her face broke into a grin and she laughed. "You call him by his name!"

"He insisted on it," Sarah said, adding quickly. "And he never really gave me a title. Everyone called him by his name."

"Of course, of course," Stunning Princess said, and Sarah knew that she had fooled no one, "but you can't tell me you haven't noticed him, at least. A blind Elder Dragon could fall for a body like that."

Sarah slid into the ornate purecrystal tub and sighed in relief at the hot water around her tired limbs. "Aren't all hunters that way, Adaline? You should marry one if you've such a liking for them."

"Maybe I'll steal Tyr away then, since you've no claim on him," she teased.

"How could I?" Sarah whispered to the water, submerging herself up to her neck before her sister entered abruptly. "If that's what you both want, I'm sure that Tyr would make a fine husband." This time she was louder, clearer, hoping Adaline hadn't caught her previous comment.

"This game isn't any fun if you don't play along, Sarah." Adaline knelt next to the tub with a frown. "But I suppose you don't have to worry about who you want to marry, do you?"

Closing her eyes, Sarah slid down fully into the bath and tousled her own hair, removing all the sand and accumulated grime. She didn't want to think about her own marriage, especially not after a day like the one she'd had. When she surfaced, Adaline was still waiting for an answer. "Yes. He's attractive. Is that better?"

"Incalculably. Now, I want all of the details on your trip, and don't you dare skimp out on anything involving him."

If either of the girls had bothered to look out the window, they might've seen Tyr passing below with the other guards on their way back to their base. Guard of Death, as was his custom, had gone off to report their trip's kills to the Guild on his own, and Tyr somehow knew the barracks wouldn't be his first stop, no matter how much his body wanted sleep.

"You need to be inducted and initiated before you can even step foot in our base," Orion explained. "The trick is, the Commander is the only one who knows what the initiation is going to be for each person. Some people say she makes everyone's up on the spot, but it's never failed to find good guards and keep out the bad ones. It also keeps recruits lined up at the door, I'll tell you that. Young and old, people are curious."

Tyr stopped short of the door as the other's entered, though Jaruk and Molin stopped with him to wait.

"You're gonna be fine," Molin said with a short nod. "The way you took down that Los when we first met? You're a shoe-in."

"I didn't do it alone," Tyr said.

"Not alone, no, but we did mention your capabilities in our report when we returned."

Tyr didn't know what else to say to them, so he busied himself with studying his surroundings. An old habit, but one that had saved his life more times than he could count. The guard base was elevated above most of the city, and his view stretched out to include the almost endless desert that surrounded them. Everywhere in the city there were lights and smells and sounds, but beyond the wall there was silence and stillness. Though he tried, he couldn't tell the difference between what might have been a wyvern or some large cactus like the ones he'd seen on their trip. The red of the city, soft in the moonlight, only furthered the dichotomy between civilization and the brutal world they all called home.

Molin and Jaruk had been saying something, but Tyr only noticed it when they both suddenly stopped.

"You Broken Man?" At first, it was nothing more than a rough female voice, but as Tyr followed Molin and Jaruk's eyes downwards he saw a Melynx with granite whiskers. Tyr was with-it enough to nod, but nothing more. "They woke me in the middle of the night for a half-dressed, fully silent stick in the mud without the chakra to face down a drome, much less a real wyvern?"

"I can fight."

"Right." The Commander took one look at the other guards and, without so much as a word, they both saluted and hurried off. "Look, I don't care if the princess personally recommended you and the King offered you a position in  _my_  guard. I don't care that you saved those two from Confident Twin's ego. I don't even care about whatever it is that brought you here This isn't your village. Here, things turn black. Sol burns everything, darkening hides and hardening souls. You don't go out there and hunt. You're the hunted."

"They hunt people everywhere," Tyr said, quietly.

"Yeah, but out here they're bigger and badder than anywhere else. A Black Blos will gore you in a second without any warning. Black Tigrexes come raging through minor sandstorms to take out entire caravans. Every now and then a Black Grav will hunker down from the volcano and blast away a chunk of the city wall. And on one of the islands out there," the Commander gestured out to the rather distant glistening of the sea to the south. "There're legends that an ancient elder dragon called the Raviente sleeps beneath the sands."

Excitement. Fear. Curiosity. He felt none of them, and in their absence he had only that infinite emptiness. It was like listening to someone rattle off ingredients to his breakfast instead of describing wyverns he'd never seen. "What does that mean for me?"

Whatever else she was, the Commander was unfazed by Tyr being unfazed. "It means that until you prove yourself to me, you're gonna be scrubbing the barracks and doing recon work. You will wear Battle armor every second of every day. If I  _ever_  see you out of it, I'll personally show you why they all salute when I walk by.  _If_  you earn your Dark Metal equipment, then  _maybe_  you can go out on a real hunt for the kingdom and earn yourself some real armor."

"And weapons? Do I get issued a blade, or can I keep my own?"

"You can keep your own if you like, or take some of the greenhorn equipment from the barracks. Just make sure you don't lose whatever you take, and don't be surprised if someone else has it tomorrow."

"I'll use my own."

The Commander grunted and turned away. "Go ahead, recruit. Go get yourself outfitted in your gear and report to the barracks for some sleep. From here on out, I'm 'Yes, Commander' to you, and nothing else. Got it?"

Tyr wished he could be sad or jealous, or whatever he was supposed to be at the Commander's arrogance. He couldn't emote that desire though, could barely feel the urges except for an inkling in the bottom of his stomach, and that was assuming it wasn't just the hunger. "Yes, Commander. I do."

"Good, then get going." Tyr stood for a moment, unsure of where anything was. As if on cue, the Commander called from inside, "To your left, third building on the right. Don't make me tell you again."

Tyr found the barracks without a problem, and when he entered to see over a dozen half-dressed men and women he shut his eyes. He wasn't embarrassed – he wasn't really anything – but he knew he was supposed to close them all the same. If letting others see your undergarments was no longer an issue in the city, adjusting was going to be more difficult than he'd already assumed. Climbing Captain, apparently having just returned from the baths, clapped him on the back and chuckled at his emotionless face.

"You can't keep them shut forever, you know."

"You underestimate me."

Orion laughed, and pushed him forward. Tyr's eyes opened automatically so he could catch himself, and found himself face to chest with a rather tall, busty, and noticeably shirtless Wyverian woman.

"Hey," she said. "You're the one they picked up with the princess, right? The one who saved the Twins?" Tyr focused all of his attention above eye level.

"Tyr."

"Motherly Guard," she said, more kindly when she looked at his eyes. "You're not well. Are you sure you're ready for your training tomorrow?"

"Is it supposed to be hard?" His flat tone couldn't possibly convey what he was still failing to feel.

"Your first training will be against the Rhennox," Molin replied.

"I've never heard of it. Is it a local species?" Tyr asked.

The guards all laughed. "You could say that. Ever heard of the Rhenoplos, New Guard?" Another new title. Something he knew he didn't like, and yet nothing. When he shook his head, they laughed again. "Well, you'll find out tomorrow. Here's a tip for you, don't get hit."

"What sort of advice is that?" Jaruk asked with a grin.

"That's professional advice," his compatriot answered.

Motherly Guard sighed and put a hand to her forehead. "Boys will be boys, eh? You just get some rest and try to feel better."

"I don't know if I can sleep just yet." Tired as he was, Tyr couldn't sleep so close to so many people. He'd have to be truly exhausted to fall asleep here. "Am I allowed to walk around the city?"

"Really? Almost everyone else hit the bunk as soon as they got in. Yeah though; you want some company? A guide maybe?" Motherly Guard asked.

"I'll be fine by myself. Thanks."

Tyr didn't make it very far on his walk. He found a quiet place between buildings and sat down to clear his head. There were only a few things he'd ever wanted in his life, and the past few weeks had brought him so far away from all of them that he wasn't sure if he could ever achieve any now.

He wanted sadness, he knew that much. There should have been more of it in the darkened alley, full of tiny cracks and scars formed over years of the desert's abuse. He should have wanted revenge, or pity, or comfort from these strange city lights and these foreign people who surrounded him. Instead, there was only a longing for that longing, and nothing more. It was wrong in his mind, and wrong in what was left of his soul, but not enough to make a physical difference.

His broken chakra was something he'd have to get used to. Fighting had been more effort than he'd ever remembered it being. He could barely swing his katana at times, and he could forget about actually channeling any power into it. Even when he'd been young that skill had come so naturally to him that he'd never known the difficulty most hunters must have faced when picking up the art of the longsword. He'd been born to use the katana, and now he'd lost everything but the memories.

Where were his emotions? He'd asked himself that question every day since he'd woken up, and still he didn't know. They had to be out there in the world somewhere, he just couldn't access them. Some part of him imagined that was where wyverns got their rage from, some place that stored lost or unfelt emotions, but such ideas were foolish. Everything had its own emotions, except for him.

"There you are," a vaguely familiar voice interrupted his musings. Adaline sat down beside him in what Tyr could only describe as a thin dress without looking too closely. "I went looking for you at the barracks and they said you'd gone out. I didn't think I'd actually find you."

Befuddlement wasn't an emotion, and Tyr only knew that because he could still experience it. "Why were you looking for me?"

"If you'd prefer the reason that I gave the guards, I'm officially here to thank you for protecting my sister and welcome you to the city." She gave him a coy smile and a wink. "Truthfully though, I'm here to get to know you."

"Why the interest?"

"Sarah hasn't ever brought such a handsome and talented hunter home with her before." Adaline scooted herself closer and leaned against him. "It makes me terribly curious."

Instead of moving away like he'd thought he would, Tyr sighed and put his head back against the wall. "Alright. Ask away."

"What weapon do you use?"

"Longsword. The Katana class, specifically."

"How long have you been hunting?"

"Almost twenty years now."

She whipped herself around with surprising speed, straddling Tyr. His eyes were instantly open. "Do you find me attractive?" This close, it was far more obvious that the purple dress was thin enough to give an appreciative look on the princess' undergarments and her slender figure. She was amply curved and had dressed to accentuate all of her best features. All this he soaked up in the instant before he turned his head away. "Is that a no?"

"What is the problem with you people?" Tyr countered.

"Excuse me?"

"Everyone I've met in this city, you flaunt about as you please without regard for modesty the moment Sol goes down." He did his best to sound bitter, or sad, thinking one would be right. Neither came through, and he wasn't certain which would have been more right. "A bit of mystery goes a long way."

"There's always mystery with me," Adaline said and gently kissed his cheek. "Don't you ever forget that." She was up on her feet before he knew she was moving. "I like you, Tyr. You're honest and easy on the eye. We'll see each other again soon."

For a while, he just sat. Sarah must have told her his name, he reasoned, but she'd said it with none of the same hesitancy of her sister. She was quick enough to take him surprise, though he imagined that a Kut Ku could have done the same thing at that moment. Had she really gone to the guards in that outfit to ask after him? He couldn't guess, but the only other possibility seemed improbable at best. He would have noticed a charm.

From the shadows just beyond Tyr's contemplation, Adaline watched him for several minutes before heading off home. She'd gotten what she came for, and made up her mind about a few things that Sarah hadn't mentioned. "One day the world will know his name," she whispered to herself as she slipped back into her room, "and when people tell the stories, I'll be the one beside him."


	6. The Way of the Blade

Morning brought with it a world of trouble for Tyr. The baths were mixed, and not everyone deemed a wrap worthy of use, so he was once again exposed to far too much flesh. His breakfast was a far cry from what he ate back home. The meat, which he didn’t ask about, was tough and thick; so was his drink. Afterwards he was weighed, measured, and given a set of aging armor that fit rather snugly in all of the wrong places.

“Hey, New Guard. You’re to report for basic training in the arena whenever it is you feel ready,” a male voice reported to him from behind. “I’ve also been informed that the princesses will be attending your training. Lucky Mosswine.”

Tyr turned to see who it was, but his armor stopped him from actually doing so. The sooner he could get out of this antique, the better off he’d be.

He’d been told at breakfast that his only way out of the armor was through the arena, which was apparently a rather big deal in the city. Whole crowds of citizens came to watch hunters train against the captured monsters that they or other had brought in. Although there were always plenty of hunters willing to capture, training beasts were revitalized after every fight, if at all possible. Tyr had plenty of time to see all of this while waiting for his match with the Rhennox.

Well over a hundred hunters waited in the lobby with him, all with numbered tickets for their place in line. He’d expected a single instructor, an empty arena. That was how the stories always went with stories from hunters from other towns. This though, this spectacle was something else entirely. Not by chance, Motherly Guard was there as well. She nudged him in the ribs when he wasn’t looking.

“Hey there, New Guard,” she said. “You ready for today?”

“If I’m not, I guess I’ll know.”

“Come now, where’s your-” she let the sentence drop there, having apparently remembered something important. “Right, well. Good luck out there, you’re up next, yeah?”

“If they call me next, yes.”

“You haven’t been listening? Most people are either too nervous or too excited not to count everyone before them.”

“I suppose I’m neither then.”

“You’re a piece of work, that’s what you are. I hear the princesses came just to see you today.”

“It’s not what you think,” Tyr said.

“Yeah, you got the girls lined up like blangos in heat and you’re telling me there’s nothing going on? I don’t think so.”

“Does no one in this city listen to anyone else?” he said without thinking.

“What was that?” Motherly Guard asked, her tone taking a nosedive.

“Nothing. That’s my number.” Tyr left her to her own musings and theories, since she obviously couldn’t be helped. The instructor at the gate, far from as enthusiastic as the ones Tyr had heard of, handed Tyr a medium-sized whetstone, good for about ten sharpenings, a few potions, and a small ball containing a single, rather agitated flashbug. Last, but not least, he gave him one piece of advice.

“Don’t get killed in front of the royals, New Kid.”

As he stepped out into the roar of the crowd, Tyr scanned the arena to check for anything he could use. The area was much larger than what he’d seen from the other side of the gate, and covered entirely in sand. The marks from the previous battles hadn’t been cleaned; the smell of blood and sweat was everywhere. What was most-noticeable of all though was the sudden, booming voice of a woman he couldn’t even see.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, welcome the newest recruit to our very own royal guard, New Guard!” People cheered and hollered. “Today, he’ll be facing off the beast you all know and love to see go down: the Rhennox!” More cheers, these ones even louder than before. Second pick in a match of only two, Tyr knew that didn’t spell anything good for him. “This is the competitor that our princesses have been waiting for, so give him another big cheer!” As the third wave of applause came, Tyr spotted the princesses in a private section with what, from a distance, looked like a black dot.

“New Guard. Are you ready for your fight?” the same woman shouted from wherever she might’ve been. Tyr nodded, only hoping he could be seen. “Alright then, work on the enthusiasm next time, and release the Rhennox!”

From across the arena, a gate lifted and out charged a rather large and grey beast. Even at this distance, he could make out several small horns across its face and a temperament that was going to be less than favorable. As it got closer, its heavy plating along the head and back came into view. This was going to be a challenge.

Tyr leapt to the side just as the Rhennox went in for the kill and swung his blade in the same action he used to draw it out. The Nifilan Edge bounced back with nearly the same force and sent him spiraling off balance.

Tyr recovered while the Rhennox spun itself around and came roaring towards him again. Once again, Tyr leapt to the side, but this time he took after the beast in hopes of staying behind it. The only problem with this plan was that the Rhennox never seemed to slow down. It took wide turns to keep its speed up as it went in for ram after ram. A simple creature, that much was true, but difficult to kill without a sharper weapon. As Tyr went in for another attack, a Melynx that commanded respect shook her head.

“I don’t understand what you see in him, ladies. He isn’t even smart enough to sweep low with his attacks.”

“You did let him into the guard, Commander,” Adaline said. “You must have seen something in him too.”

“I’m sure he’s just gauging his opponent,” Sarah added. “New Guard was an incredible hunter before the accident. He just needs time.”

“Time isn’t something he has in a fight,” the Commander said, eying Tyr as he gulped down a potion for the injuries he received on only a grazing blow.

Below, Tyr gritted his teeth and tried to will what was left of his chakra around his blade. Any increase in sharpness or strength would help tremendously. He couldn’t do it. He could only feel the weight of the blade in his hands. There was no connection at all, and there was also no way he was going to be able to get to what appeared to be a soft underbelly in the old armor he was wearing unless he was willing to be trampled for every hit. There had to be a better way of fighting the beast than just waiting for it to tire, because it didn’t seem it ever would.

So, he did the next best thing. Taking the ball in one hand, he waited until the Rhennox circled around again before crushing it and tossing it forward. For a second, the crumbled orb just flew forward, but then the flashbug inside died and Tyr closed his eyes for the flash bright enough to temporarily blind anyone in the front few rows. Hopefully they’d been smart enough to not look.

The Rhennox, instead of simply being dazed, had actually rolled over onto its back. A useful trick. Tyr took the advantage to land several piercing strikes. The beast howled, but didn’t get up until the effects of the flash wore off. Even with the full fifteen seconds of daze time, Tyr hadn’t been able to inflict enough damage to stop it, apparently. In fact, once the Rhennox was back on its feet it simply took off at full speed again. Tyr was less than glad they’d only given him one to use.

Minutes passed with nothing new. The crowd’s cheers grew less and less fevered, but Tyr hardly noticed it anyways. He took his first major hit when his armor wouldn’t move with him as well as he was used to. The Rhennox caught his leg with a horn and flipped him prone. He coughed and rolled as quickly as possible, barely saving himself from the second charge. When he got up, however, he didn’t have enough time or room to dodge.

Hundreds of pounds of angry Rhennox plowed into Tyr and sent him flying. He bounced across the arena floor twice before hitting the wall with a rather audible clang. The audience fell hushed, and Tyr could barely breathe. Pain coursed through every inch of his body without his chakra to lessen the blow at all. There wasn’t time for pain though. Not in a hunt. He pushed his body to stand and leap, but it wouldn’t move.

The Rhennox slammed against him, and the full force of the brute’s body impacted against his chest. His bones cracked as his armor caved inwards, and his muscles spasmed in shock at the pain which whited out his vision. For a second the entire world was nothing but a screaming inferno as death ran through his veins, and then it got worse. His vision returned to him and he could see the blood, his own blood, which he’d coughed over the Rhennox’s face. His body was ringing with agony, every heartbeat pulsing out a new wave of suffering to every inch. When the Rhennox actually started backing up, and his body began to fall, he swore that this was the end.

But it wasn’t.

Something in him brought up his arms to catch himself in the sand. On his hands and knees, he felt the eyes of every spectator as acutely as he felt the pain running through him. The Rhennox had taken off, but he could hear its angry hoofbeats as it circled around. Through the pain and the disorientation, he thought of Natalie, of how helpless she must have felt against the silver Rathalos, and he thought he could feel it to. It was like his soul was connected to hers through time and space. He wasn’t going to die this time. At the last second, with all the strength he possessed, Tyr shoved himself out of the way and rolled from the Rhennox’s path.

For a few moments, he lay there, trying to regain his breath and health with a quick potion. He was surprised that the Rhennox didn’t seem to be moving, and wrote it off as pain distracting him until he turned his head and saw it standing in a daze. There were a few cracks in the wall where the Rhennox must’ve struck his head, knocking himself temporarily into a state of stupor. That was the trick he’d been waiting for. Tyr got to his feet slowly, drinking the last of his potions in the process, and then trotted as best he could towards the other side of the arena. He barely made it by the time the Rhennox found him once more.

Tyr took a deep breath, waiting as close to the wall as he dared, and jumped with all his might when he knew the beast wouldn’t have the time to turn. There was a crash, and then temporary silence.

The Rhennox was dazed, but wouldn’t be for long. This was it. It had to be Tyr or the Rhennox. With a surprising amount of speed for his condition, Tyr flew forward with his katana towards the Rhennox’s side. At the last moment, he leapt forward, barely half a foot off the ground and slammed his blade into the brute’s shell.

“He just doesn’t learn,” The Commander said.

In that moment, Tyr used the last of his strength and the recoil of his impact to whip himself around. He pushed his body to power through the arc, and when his blade connected between the Rhennox’s jaws the katana cleaved straight through and embedded itself in the beast’s front legs. Blood gushed from the wound and covered Tyr’s arms as he gasped.

The crowd erupted into sound.

“Well, I’ll be a sonofakutku.”

“I told you,” Sarah said, smiling despite the gore. “He’s incredible.”

“He’s got potential,” The Commander concluded. That said, she hopped down, bowed to the princesses, and walked away as casually as a member of the Felyne family could. Adaline was whistling and applauding as loudly as anyone else in the arena, and so Sarah joined in.

At the epicenter of all the attention, Tyr struggled a bit, but finally yanked the Nifilan Edge from the Rhennox’s legs and wiped the blade on its hide to clean it before sheathing. Normally, his chakra would wipe it clean, but there wasn’t enough in him to even extract armor skills, much less clean a blade. His body was bruised and definitely broken, so he only hoped the potions he’d had could hold him over until he could see a medic. He dragged his feet every step out of the arena and back into the lobby full of cheering hunters.

Between pats on the back, some more gentle than others, and enthusiastic ‘well done’s’, Motherly Guard and Climbing Captain managed to find him and pull him out of the throng. “Never seen anyone take out a Rhennox like that before. You sure you’re not just faking this whole broken chakra thing?” Orion asked.

Tyr just shook his head, which hurt more than it should’ve. “I need a healer.”

“I’d need two if I took a hit like that in your armor,” he shouted as he ran to fetch someone with more medical expertise than himself.

Motherly Guard sat down with him, still holding her ticket. “I feel sorry for the next guy who has to go out there. It’s all a show, and an act like yours is hard to follow.”

“It wasn’t an act.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Just don’t talk right now, please.” Tyr thought of a dozen other reasons why he wouldn’t want to be spoken to before he settled on: “I just don’t want to think.” This was apparently good enough for her, as Motherly Guard didn’t say another word before the healer and his felynes arrived to cart Tyr off to the Guard Infirmary.

When Tyr woke up in a bed, stripped of his armor, he felt like hell. His body ached as it never had before when fainting from a quest. Worse than he’d ever remembered feeling in his life, in fact. As he sat up, painfully slowly, Adaline looked up from a copy of a well-known Monster Ecology text. “Awake already? You truly are as incredible as my sister would have everyone believe.”

“How long have I been out?” His head was swimming, but he forced himself to stay up.

“Oh, only a few hours.”

“And how long before I can hunt on my own again?”

Adaline twirled a bit of her golden hair and shrugged. “I’m not sure. The healer said something about regeneration stimulus and the will the live, but I’m afraid I wasn’t close-enough to hear the full explanation.”

“Who was?”

“Sarah and Clay Claw.”

“Who’s Clay Claw?” he asked. His armor was nearby, and it looked as bad as he felt. He’d need to get it repaired if he wanted to be able to breathe in it comfortably.

“I’ll tell you for a kiss,” Adaline offered, gazing up at him from where she sat with a dangerous look in her eyes. Although it took some effort, Tyr slowly raised himself out of bed, ducked himself back down to her level, and planted a gentle kiss against her cheek before pulling away as quickly as he could. “You are as tricky as a Nerscylla,” she teased. “Well, I suppose I can forgive you this time, considering your condition. Next time you’re not getting off so easily.”

“Then I’ll do my best not to need anything from you too soon. Now, who’s Clay Claw?” While Adaline might’ve been slightly off-put by his comment, she still told him his answer and watched him head out the door. He was going to be even more of a challenge than she’d expected, but that was just fine. The only fun in any hunt was the challenge.

Given a choice between trying to gain access to the Princess and the Commander, Tyr thought that the Commander would be the easier option. He wasn’t more than a few steps down the hallway, his body nearly doubling over with pain, that he reconsidered his options. Clay Claw hadn’t seemed particularly interested in him the night before, and if she was in the middle of important business it could’ve been hours before Tyr would ever have time to ask her.

Sarah, on the other hand, was a princess with her own schedule to keep. There wasn’t any better chance of her being available than the Commander. In fact, because of her status he might’ve been refused any admittance at all without her permission. He wasn’t used to the idea, but he did know how political figures worked, in theory. With little hope of finding either readily available, Tyr turned around and headed back to his bed. The medic would have to return eventually.

Not surprisingly, Adaline hadn’t moved an inch. “Back so soon?” she asked. “Did you miss me that much?”

Tyr knew it was a joke, but wasn’t certain if it was a good one or not anymore. He had laughed when people had said it back in Nifila, hadn’t he? He took another look at his armor, wondering how he’d get back into it. Clay Claw had warned him about him being out of it, and he was just in his underclothes in front of a princess he’d chided for doing the same the night before. As uncomfortable as his armor might be, it was better than the alternative. “You’re at least consistent company,” he said as he struggled into each piece of the Battle Gear.

“I thought you’d see it my way. So long as I have you, I’d like to ask you a few more questions of my own.” Adaline took a new seat on the edge of the bed. “Just what is it you’re looking for in a woman, Tyr?”

“Do you have nothing else on your mind?”

“I have plenty on my mind. Are you going to answer the question?”

“I’ll tell you what,” Tyr said as he finally managed to get the second of his greaves on. “I’ll give you an answer for every answer you give in return. Does that seem fair?”

“That sounds wonderful,” Adaline smiled. “So, what is it you’re looking for in a woman?”

“Perfection. Why is it you’re so interested in me when you hardly know me?”

“Oooh.” She sneered playfully at him. “Trickier than a Nerscylla then.” Adaline paused long enough to consider her answer. “You’re not like other men. What makes a woman perfect?”

“More things than I can count. Why should I be interested in you?”

“I believe you’ll find me perfect once you get to know me. What makes you so sure I’m not perfect?”

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Just ask for it.”

He didn’t ask. Instead, he fell silent, staring out the window at something in the distance. Whatever it was had to be too far away to be discernible by the naked eye, and yet Tyr seemed transfixed.

“What is it?” Adaline leaned against his back and set her chin on his shoulder, trying to find the point he was watching. She had to stand on her toes to do so, but it was worth the few seconds it would last.

“I’m never quite sure.” Tyr ducked his shoulder down and stepped around Adaline just as the medic was passing by. “Excuse me. I have a question.”

“You’re awake?” he asked, adjusting his spectacles. He was an older gentleman. He was also human, by all accounts, which was abnormal in a field that required as much expertise as healing. “That blow you received in the arena very nearly killed you; I was surprised you managed to stay conscious as long as you did.”

“It definitely felt like it. How long will it be before I can hunt again?”

“New Guard, I’m not certain if you know this but your chakra is broken. You shouldn’t have been in a fight with that Rhennox, much less with anything that might actually be dangerous.”

“I can’t not hunt,” Tyr said, and there was something at the bottom of his stomach that pulled down on him, but somehow pushed him forwards. “How long until I can move without feeling like I’m going to split myself in half?”

“If you were a normal, healthy human being? You’d be back in an hour. But no one prepared me for someone in your condition. It could be hours, or days, even a month. Without your chakra to speed up the healing process, there’s just no telling how long it will take.”

“Look,” Tyr countered, his voice rising with a mild heat from that downward force. “I can’t be out for weeks. I can’t be out for days. I need to go and hunt or I’ll… I’ll…” He didn’t know where to go from there. Something was wrong with how he felt, and when he realized it was that he was actually feeling something he forgot how to hold onto a feeling.

The medic nodded slowly. “I see. Well, if you’ll wait here, I do have something I can do which _might_ help. It will probably be as painful as the Rhennox was though. Are you certain you want this?”

“Absolutely.”

Adaline smirked to herself. All her guesses had been right so far, now she just needed him to want her. “Well, with that settled, perhaps you wouldn’t mind answering a few questions of mine?”

“Certainly, Stunning Princess. What can I do for you?”

“You said that Tyr shouldn’t have been hunting in his condition. That was just because he could’ve been hurt more severely?” Human Medic actually looked straight to Tyr when Adaline said his name, his eyes wide. Luckily for him, he’d recovered by the end of her question.

“He certainly could have been. In his condition I’m astounded he was able to fight back at all, given what the chakra from even something as weak as the Rhennox should have been doing to his ability to fight.”

“So, it would take a hunter of incredible skill to do what he did then?”

“It seems that way to me, yes.”

“I’m certain of it. He proved as much in the arena today.”

Tyr didn’t look as certain as they sounded, but he didn’t say anything. He just stood there with his arms crossed and a look of concentration on his face. “Well, thank you for your help. How long should we wait for you?”

“I’ll be back in an hour as I gather what I need for the operation.”

Adaline waited until the medic left before she spoke again. “You _are_ incredible, Tyr. I’ve seen dozens of those provings and you’re the only I know of who did what you did.”

“Who had to nearly be killed before getting a lucky strike?” His voice was back to the dull monotone again. “Do you think that what appealed to them is what makes someone a good hunter?”

“I don’t,” she urged. “But that didn’t look like luck to me.”

“It doesn’t have to look that way for it be that way. You might understand if you’d ever hunted for a day in your life, Princess.”

Adaline’s hand came up so fast that Tyr barely had time to react. By the time he’d even processed the attack, she had stopped it. Her hand quivered no more than centimeter from his face. There was only one person who’d ever spoken to her that way before. She’d stopped herself, but it took her a few moments longer to calm down. Tyr didn’t know exactly what to say, but she did.

“My name is Adaline.”

She left, just as quickly as her strike. Tyr didn’t object.

As promised, it took almost exactly an hour before Human Medic returned with a large box. “Please take off your armor and lay still on your back. As I said, this will hurt, and I still don’t know that it’ll work. Are you still certain you want to go through with this?”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay then. Again. Stay still.” Opening the box, the medic pulled out a long needle, almost the size of a sword. “This technique is one that’s normally used for those who need a chakric release. It helps them to get rid of negative emotions or long-lasting health issues. Even then, it’s not always,” the first needle slowly pierced into his arm at the crook. It was, as promised, like a fireball focused on a single point for a few moments until the needle stopped moving. “Successful.”

The pain wasn’t easier each time, especially since the old needles were just left in, stinging with any tiny movement. But, since he couldn’t feel the fear, couldn’t be nervous about each new pierce, at least his stomach felt fine. At least, he did until a needle actually pierced his stomach. The last needle the medic inserted as slowly as he could, right above Tyr’s heart. The needle inched down so slowly that Tyr thought he could feel every microscopic movement. His body was on fire, and ice, and lightning, and even dragon. He’d have killed for water.

But as the final needle reached its destination he could feel again. The pain eased into a rush of emotions that surged through him, tangling him in everything from rage to grief and joy to terror. He screamed. His body tried to wretch, but there was no direction that felt any better, and so it paralyzed itself. He was trapped in his own skin and dying to get out

But he finally felt something.


	7. Two Princesses, One Prince

Tyr was nearly back to his old self, or at least physically speaking. Unfortunately, he was still in his battle gear and trying to work around his chakra handicap. Every day after his week-long recovery he fought in the arena, and every day it was less of a close call, but he’d only earned half of the coins he needed for his Dark Metal armor. They wouldn’t give him a single piece until he’d earned the full set.

“Yeah, it does stink like a conga,” Orion said as Tyr sharpened his katana one more time. “But you’re doing great, man. You’re the fastest trainee we’ve had in a long time.”

Oliarta, the Motherly Guard, laying on the bunk above Tyr’s, scoffed. “In a long time? He’s the fastest I’ve ever heard of.” She bent herself in half to look into Tyr’s face. “You really are, dear. How did you ever get that good?”

“I don’t think I’m that good. I’ve trained for years, mostly hunted alone. It was enlightening.” He paused for a moment before thinking better of something. “That being said, I’m surprised I’m the best. Do no experienced hunters ever apply for the guard?”

“Very few. Most are out doing quests for the Guild, or out with one of the Research Commissions, or just focused on improving their own gear and skills.” Orion shrugged a bit as Tyr slid the Nifilan Guardian back into its sheath. “Speaking of which, you still haven’t explained that sword to anyone. Duller as a stick, but you still use it. What’s up with that?”

“What does it matter?” Tyr asked.

“I’m sure the princesses know,” Oliarta teased as she dismounted from the bed. “I just don’t understand when you find time enough to see both of them and still train as much as you do.”

Tyr shook his head as he got up. There’d been far too much talk about the princesses and him. Despite all of his efforts to squelch the rumors, there was no denying that he knew them both better than nearly every other guard in the city. This meant there was no escaping the accusations, so he’d taken to not responding instead.

“Oh, come on. We’re your friends, Blank Blade,” Orion grinned. “You can let us know the truth, at least. I even promise not to get too jealous, but you might wanna keep the details light for Motherly Guard’s sake.” Oliarta thwapped Orion across the back of the head.

“I don’t need to be jealous of anything, thank you very much. Just last night I had a wonderful evening with Daring Guard.”

“Daring Guard?” Orion quirked his eyebrow. “No wonder she never laughed at my jokes.”

“Is this all you two think about outside of the arena?”

“You know I gamble.” Orion gave him a grin.

“Right. Can either of you explain just why you city folks are all like this?”

“Only if you explain the princess thing.”

Tyr sighed. “There’s nothing to explain.” He propped the door open for them.

“One of them brought you home with her after two months' absence,” Oliarta started.

“The other,” Orion continued “Stops by the camp at every time of day and night looking specifically for you.”

“And both of them come to all of your arena matches”

“Then leave the moment you go.”

“So…”

“There’s gotta be something to it,” they both concluded.

They stood in front of him, blocking off any escape besides going back to the barracks. Tyr sighed and gave them a long look, but they only crossed their arms. Both of them were far too large to be taken down, or shoved aside, and that was assuming Tyr could even do so in the first place. He wished Molin was there, at least he could’ve done something.

“If there’s anything going on between myself and either Sarah or Adaline, then I’m entirely unaware of it.”

“Well,” Orion said as they continued on their way to the arena, “You calling them by their names isn’t really helping your case.” Oliarta vocally nodded her agreement, but they spent the rest of their journey discussing random things about the city and the guard. They had never spoken about their fights in the arena, not beforehand anyways. It was more fun to keep it a surprise, especially for Orion. But what was the most fun was the announcement of a special event in the arena that morning.

“A Legend?” Tyr asked. “Do they always just write it that way? I thought they had special titles, or at least names.”

“They do, but a lot of them like to stay anonymous. It’s kinda weird. If I was famous, I’d want everyone to know when I was in town.” Orion winked. “I should probably say when, but I don’t wanna jinx it.”

Oliarta didn’t even bother with a sigh this time. “If you ever become a Legend, I’ll make sure no one knows we ever met.”

“You’d be doing me a favor, Motherly.” Tyr, meanwhile, was examining the crowd in the lobby. “Looking for something there, Tigrex?” Tyr shook his head.

“The Legend. I don’t see anyone who radiates that kind of chakra.” When the other two gave him their patented questioning looks, he continued. “I’ve seen a Legend, I think. Just once. He came through my town to hunt the Xiloukana.”

“Is that a big one?” Orion asked, hoping to be impressed.

“The Xiloukana is the most fearsome creature I’ve never met. Not an elder dragon, but it could crush a Los’s skull between its jaws given the chance.”

“Damn. That’s a real brute. Well, maybe the Legend’s just hiding around here?”

“They let the Legends sit in the stands if they want, or even with the royals,” Oliarta said. “Legends can do just about anything they want, really. Even the Guild has their hands tied when someone that famous rolls into town.”

“Right, but there are only a few of them alive, right? So which one do you think would come here?”

“Maybe it’s that one guy,” Oliarta said, mouth open in thought. “The one that survived the fight with the Fatalis. What was his name?”

“Oh, you mean the Sword Saint? It was Ken… something,” Orion said. “But I don’t think it’s him. He’s really quiet from what I hear. Not the kind of guy to make an appearance in the public arenas, if you know what I mean. Nah, I bet it’s someone flashier like that Wyverian hunter, One-Armed Tolk. He’s way good.”

Tyr had only the faintest inklings of who these people were. Nifila had rarely concerned itself with the tall tales of the Legends, and Tyr had been too busy perfecting his own hunting skills to worry about who else had already done the same. Still, hearing his comrades spout out titles like ‘One-Armed’ and ‘Sword Saint’ intrigued him, a nice side-effect of his now-daily needling. Which would it actually be? And which had come through his home so long ago?

Before they could find out, Tyr was called into the arena to battle against a Basarios. The wyvern was, mostly, a bigger, stonier version of the Rhennox he’d faced before, with a few key differences. The most noticeable of these differences was its ability to release a cloud of noxious gas from the cracks in its body, poisoning Tyr for a short while. Even when Tyr managed to break the beast’s chest plate and barely sever its tail, the crowd cheered impatiently. While he hadn’t cared much at first, he’d gotten used to the roar of the crowd, and it was irritating that they weren’t cheering now just because of their anticipation of what would surely be a better show. When the beast dropped from exhaustion, Tyr turned to face his audience and saw her. A strange woman in dark grey armor.

From some fifteen meters or more up in the stands, this woman leapt forward into the arena, rolling as she hit the sand so that she spent no time at all off of her feet. Her armor was the grey of storm clouds and tornadoes, littered with golden flashes that tapered into yellow and finally white. Even more impressive was her torso-sized hammer, whose head revolved as she revved the hilt with her right hand. Fiery hair, just barely visible beneath the open-faced helmet she wore, burned with the intensity of her chakra. “Hey kid,” the Legend said. “You’re alright, but get out of my arena if you don’t want to get hurt.”

The crowd, compelled to thunder, drowned out not only Tyr’s meager response, but also the Legend’s attention span for Tyr. With only a grin, the woman whipped out her hammer, held it high, and twisted the handle enough to spin the hammer’s head at dizzying speeds. Tyr sprinted back to the lobby as he noticed the faint sound of the Crystal Gates creaking their way open behind him. Whatever it was this Legend was fighting, he didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in the Sekumaeya against it.

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls,” the Announcer cried, just barely above the crowd. "This is the moment we’ve all been waiting for. Gunhammer Azusa will demonstrate her skills against not just one, but two Rajangs fighting back to back!” Tyr whipped around as soon as the lobby gate closed. Hunters piled up against him, everyone vying for the best position to watch Azusa fight.

The first Rajang, covered in crackling golden fur, charged straight for the legendary hunter like a Melynx to felvine. It was an impressive creature, a beast not unlike a human, if humans were four meters tall, and had massive horns jutting out of their skulls. Azusa didn’t even lower her hammer until Tyr swore it was too late. She dropped her body and jammed the hilt into the sand to brace it. The Rajang’s face slammed into the head of the hammer, and the creature stumbled backwards. Azusa was in the air before he could blink, her body arched to provide a longer swing. Halfway through there was some sort of explosion that Tyr couldn’t see, and Azusa’s hammer shot around so fast that she managed to knock the demon off its feet and send it spinning a fair distance. But she didn’t stop for a moment.

Just as the Rajang pulled itself to its feet Her hammer came up beneath its chin with another explosive burst. She twisted and hit it a second time in its belly before it could leap out of the way. The beast roared, lifting its bullfango-sized forelimbs into the air as a warning that sent a piercing chill through Tyr even at the distance he was at. Azusa took advantage of the opening to swipe one of the hind legs, the smaller, weaker limbs, and her hit was enough to knock the Rajang off balance.

As it toppled for the second time in less than a minute, Azusa catapulted herself off of her fallen foe and charged her chakra through her gunhammer in midair. Just as it burst to red she fired off a blast and came down on the head. There was a crack like a second gunshot and one of the Rajang’s horns toppled to the sand.

The Rajang finally fired back. A blast of electricity, a ball the size of the Rajang itself, came hurtling out of its mouth. Azusa wasn’t anywhere near its flight path. She had anticipated the move, thrown herself around her enemy, and landed a powerful blow against his spine just as his attack connect with the arena wall. It swept around with one of its powerful arms, only kicking up sand. Azusa countered with another blow to its back. Leaping backwards, the Rajang flung itself into the air and then came crashing down in a spinning ball of electrified golden fur. Again, Asuza wasn’t when the Rajang hit. But she was there where it landed on the rebound, tearing into it with hit after hit.

Then, they released the second Rajang.

This one was titan among his kind. Where the first stood only a few heads above Azusa on all fours, the second Rajang was easily three time her height and more than enraged at having been caged for so long. Azusa didn’t even blink. The crowd was too enthralled to make a noise. Tyr had never realized how loud silence could be.

Azusa pounded away in that silence. Every explosion of her gunhammer sent the hammer’s head rocketing with such immense force that Tyr knew that his blow from the Rhennox was nothing in comparison. The Rajangs roared, both charging with their leaping bounds. She rolled back as they did their final leaps, sending them crashing into one another. And as they tangled to get free of one another she lay into both of them, their flailing arms meeting the business end of her hammer.

Tyr barely noticed all of the pressure against his back, practically crushing him into the arena bars. He didn’t hear the breaths in his ear, or feel how shallow his own were. There, at that moment, he was just a part of the entity watching a Legend in gray and gold pummel beasts which could’ve easily taken down a dozen regular hunters.

It seemed that her every move was an attack, even when she was avoiding something. By spinning out of the reach of a leaping back-kick she’d set herself up to knock in a Rajang’s teeth. By sliding underneath a breath beam she opened herself up to an exposed flank. Soon, too soon, the smaller one fell into a heap of blood and broken bones. The larger beast would soon share the same fate, and there wasn’t a moment of doubt about that in anyone watching.

The larger Rajang pounded the ground surrounding itself to ward off her attacks, and it was the first time in the battle she stood still. Waiting for the Rajang to quit its temper tantrum, Azusa finally seemed real. Before she had been this force, this idealization of the spirit of hunting, but in those few brief moments she was just a hunter, waiting for an opening she couldn’t make on her own. It was the sort of moment that could make one believe that they could do it too with enough practice, enough patience. Then she dashed forward again, her hammer side-swiping the Rajang’s skull with blinding speed, and the belief was gone.

The blow had stunned the Rajang, but it hadn’t been smart-enough to fall down. Standing shakily on all fours, it seemed as though it was merely waiting for death. Azusa ran up the Rajang’s arm, vaulted into the air, and fired off three shots in such rapid succession that her whole body became a whirlwind of death that ended when her hammer finally struck and tore the Rajang’s head from its body.

There was nothing in the world for a moment. The silence of the surreal consumed all, permeated the soul of every person in the arena, left them awaiting further instruction from on high. Azusa, at the epicenter of the world, lifted her hammer with both hands and revved it one last time. Then, sound was everything. The crowd became a roaring, screaming, laughing, crying, hooting, hollering, endless mass of applause, and Azusa just grinned.

~

Although he’d been in a hurry to leave the audience chamber, John took a decidedly slower pace after rounding his first corner. John wasn’t a bad messenger, but he knew urgent business usually wasn’t as urgent as they said. Well, unless it involved the occasional wyvern. He’d only been chased by one or two in his life, and if he hadn’t been juicing at the time, John knew he wouldn’t be casually walking towards the King that day.

John had developed an unusual addiction to the taste of Mega Dash Juice. The Guild’s messenger service was done by trained falcon, which was fine for the Guild, but the King preferred interacting with people, something John was more than grateful for. It was because of the King’s preference that John was occasionally given an MDJ to keep him going, should he choose to extend his shifts. Consequently, John worked over eighteen hours on any given day, just trying to earn his next fix.

In truth, John wasn’t entirely certain why he liked MDJ so much. It was made from a combination of a well-done steak and the extract of certain less-than tasty monsters; the flavor wasn’t bad, but it left a lot to be desired if he thought about it too much. It certainly wasn’t the consistency or even the undeniable rush. What John liked to think was that his obsession stemmed from just how valuable the drinks were. Since he had never sold one, however, value didn’t seem a very reasonable excuse either. Whatever reason it ended up being, John guzzled down a Mega Dash Juice the moment it was given to him, even if he was so tired all he wanted to do was sleep.

By the time the cheering had died down and the King had said farewell to Azusa, John had worked himself up by running in circles for a minute or two, and so he appeared exhausted when he breathlessly reported his news.

“K… King of Fahrenn,” he panted. “Your guest has arrived.”

“Good,” the King said. “I trust he was shown to his chamber.”

“I did so personally, my lord.”

“Wonderful,” Adaline said. “Wouldn’t you say so, Sarah?”

“Of course,” Sarah lied. “Why shouldn’t it be?”

“Then let us make haste,” the King continued. “We shouldn’t keep our guest waiting.”

“He’s already been waiting months, father,” Adaline said. “Dark-Eyed Messenger, I’d like you to fetch the guard that they call Blank Blade.” Another person who called him Dark-Eyed, John would have to fix that.

“What business does that boy have in this affair?” asked the King.

“Father, he’s a dear friend.” Adaline flashed a smile. “And we’ve always got too much food.”

“Very well,” he sighed. “Go and fetch Blank Blade. We will meet you in the audience chambers.”

“But, Father,” Sarah started, rather loudly, John thought. “He’s only a guardsman.”

“Is that all there is to it, little sister?”

“Of course.”

“Well, I have nothing but respect for our guardsmen, and see no harm in inviting one to dine with us this once. Do you, Father?”

John was almost entirely certain that both he and the King were in the middle of what they both assumed was a much larger discussion about much larger matters. He, however, hadn’t the faintest idea what those matters would be, and it made the King’s response all-the-more surprising. “I suppose not,” he started, “but if you have a problem with it, Sarah, then I would hate to upset you over something so trivial.” It was a good answer. That was why they let him be the King, John thought.

Sarah glared ever-so-subtly at her sister, but conceded that it wouldn’t be any trouble. She had been trying to think of an excuse, John could see it in her. He’d paused that same way a thousand times before. Any plausible reason to keep bad things from falling on her head. Adaline was playing a game with her - a game which Sarah couldn’t win.

As John took off again, he thought about how good his report would be that day. Maybe they’d even give him an extra MDJ for delivering a personal message from the princess to her boy toy. It wasn’t really a secret, but that didn’t mean that blackmail wouldn’t help him get what he wanted. He made sure to make better time on this one. It was always good to have a few good runs under your belt so that people believed your excuses.

“Hey! You!” John shouted at a group of guards with the Boy Toy among them. “Urgent message from the Princess!”

“Ha!” one of his friends, a Captain, said. “Which princess is it this time, Dark-Eyed?”

That title was going to stick, it seemed. “Stunning Princess.” The guard captain nudged the Boy Toy, and Boy Toy didn’t look too happy about it. In fact, he didn’t look upset about it either. Weird guy. “She says you’re to report immediately to the audience chambers.”

“Is there a reason why?” he asked like any other brainless guard. Why, John wondered, didn’t guards ever understand that it wasn’t his job to explain these things?

“She wants you there. You go there. That’s all you need to know.”

“I guess I’ll be going then,” Boy Toy said.

John watched the Boy Toy head off, and sighed. If he didn’t get a Mega Dash Juice for this, he might as well join that poor fool. Hunters really had the worst of it; they had to actually work for everything they got.

~

Tyr did his best not to get lost while walking the brilliant halls of the castle. In one, the walls were canvasses where red, orange, yellow, green, and blue swirled together seamlessly in vibrant bursts. It was what he imagined the winter sky was like in Pokke, and he was a cloud wafting through it. How Sarah must have missed these colors inside Nifila’s black walls and endless nights. Tyr touched his hand to the walls and yanked it back immediately. There was no trace of dye or paint; the wall was comprised of ore so seamlessly fit together that he could scarcely feel the indentations between colors.

Not every hallway in the castle was crafted so finely, and many were instead decorated with tapestries depicting famous heroes, previous kings, and legendary events from history. Others were littered with gaping windows offering views of the city, the vast desert, and the sky above it. It seemed that every few hallways he was in a different world, and Tyr found himself in the kitchens before he knew he’d veered off course.

“What do you think you’re doing, nya?”

“Oh. I was looking for the audience chambers. I guess I’m a little lost.”

The tabby Felyne looked him over and decided he was harmless enough. “You certainly are, nya. The audience chamber is two floors above us. I’m guessing you’re that fellow the princesses invited, nyes?” Not to be disturbed in her work, the Felyne continued to stir a large pot of bubbling broth. It smelled heavily of Kelbi, although Tyr couldn’t imagine where they would’ve come across Kelbi meat. Weren’t they herbivores? “You’re certainly shorter than rumor suggests. Head down the hall, take your second left to the staircase, and the audience chambers will be the very large red doors. Nya, I’m sure you just passed by them.”

“Oh, yeah, those doors.” He vaguely recalled a mass of red along a hall of sandy walls, and was surprised to realize he was actually a bit embarrassed. And then surprised to realize he could be surprised, even if only a little. “Thank you for the information.”

“One more thing before you go, fellow.” The chef held out a spoonful of the broth, which Tyr delicately blew on before sipping. It was delicious, but before he could speak she thwapped him with the empty spoon. “There’s a lot more of that in store if you break my girls’ hearts. Don’t think I don’t hear everything, nya. Now scat!”

Tyr ducked out of the kitchen with his surprise shifting into a drop of ire. There was a special place in his heart for people like that chef. A place filled with knives and wyvern fire. Rumor mills had always put him in bed with any woman he’d even spent more than an hour with alone, but at least in Nifila the villagers believed him when he said no. Then, the doors opened and a party of royals replaced Tyr’s thoughts.

The princesses were dressed beautifully in full gowns despite the heat of the day. Sarah in sea blue and Adaline in forest green. As stunning as they both were, neither girl drew as much attention from Tyr as their ivory-clad guest.

The stranger was certainly a hunter of some skill. His white armor, covered with spikes crafted from blood-red horns, made him look so much like a wyvern that Tyr nearly drew his sword. His face, in sharp contrast, was slim and heavily tanned, his short hair bleached blonde from all his time spent in the desert sun, and his eyes were strikingly pink, even from twenty feet away. “And this must be that guard you’ve told me about.” Without missing a beat, the Hunter extended an armored hand out to Tyr; even the knuckles were spiked. While wondering what he was meant to do with the hand offered him, Tyr noticed that one of the spikes was not part of the armor. It was a short sword, but he wore no shield. “You do know to shake hands, yes?”

Tyr grabbed the Hunter’s hand, vaguely recalling his brief lessons on royal etiquette, and followed his lead through the rest. “I’m not sure that I know who you are. I only know that Adaline summoned me.”

“You mean Stunning Princess.”

“Oh, right,” Tyr tried to shrug off his lack of manners. “Stunning Princess summoned me.”

The Hunter didn’t seem pleased. “You would do best to remember the titles of your betters. Names might fly in the guardhouse, but here it… how does he know your name, Future Sister?”

“That’s not important, Prince of Loc Lac,” Adaline said. “I brought him here for both of you to meet.”

“Is that really all?” Tyr asked.

Sarah and the Prince both seemed shocked, but Adaline laughed. Only in Tyr’s confusion did the Prince join in. “You don’t know much about interacting with royalty, do you?”

“I’ve neve-“

“No matter. Would you mind if we dueled?” This time, even Adaline didn’t laugh. “I know that it’s quite sudden, but I’ve heard of your skill in the arena and I’d like to test it, if that’s alright.”

“Sir Kean,” Sarah interjected, “Is this really necessary?”

“My Beautiful Bride,” Kean returned, fully facing her as he spoke. “There are few things in this world as necessary as knowing the capabilities of a fellow hunter.”

“But, a duel?” Adaline asked.

“Excuse me.” All eyes turned back to Tyr. “What exactly is a duel?”

Kean’s smile didn’t comfort him at all. “A duel, my young friend, is a test of hunters. We hunt, as we always would, but the difference is that we hunt each other.”

“But no forged weapon can hurt another hunter.”

“That’s the point of it,” Kean said. “Because no one can get hurt, it’s just a brilliant way to test someone’s skills against your own.”

“It’s also a brilliant way to humiliate someone,” Adaline said, none-too-happily.

“Future Sister, surely you wouldn’t insinuate I have any foul intentions in this challenge? Blank Blade is a skilled hunter - this you’ve said yourself - so what’s the matter with a little test?”

“I don’t have a problem with it,” Tyr interrupted.

Kean didn’t give either woman a chance to interrupt this time. “Wonderful. Then let’s all head to the courtyard.” There was a lot of silence on the way. Kean seemed happy-enough but, whether due to Tyr’s presence or a personal pre-battle psyche up routine, he was quiet. Neither of the princesses had anything they felt they could say now that the challenge had been accepted, at least not without being heard saying it in the cavernous hallways, and Tyr was simply trying not to humiliate himself any further, even if he didn’t feel it. He knew it, and that was enough.

Since he was so reticent, the courtyard didn’t have a chance to silence Tyr. Just like the walls of the castle, the courtyard was full of vibrant color. Exotic desert plants had been collected and arranged in large, winding arrangements. Endemic life of every sort skittered and fluttered everywhere he looked. Fountains erupted in timed patterns, and the walls were lined with just enough machalite ore to blend with the sky. Tyr was too entranced to hear Kean’s first sentence, but tuned in soon-enough to hear “I won’t be going easy on you.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Tyr replied, drawing out his katana. It seemed too beautiful a place to fight anyone, or anything, but more beautiful places had been stained with blood before. “How do we determine who wins if we can’t really be hurt?”

“Don’t be foolish,” Kean said as he drew out his red saber. “Just like a hunt, there’s never a question of the victor.” In a blur, he snapped his weapon up and called loudly enough to echo off the all-but invisible walls. “Are you ready?”

Kean’s lack of a shield also came with a speed usually reserved for dual blade users, while Tyr’s aged and broken armor slowed him down in equal measure. The only thing he could be glad for was that Kean wasn’t a Vharalyn. He wouldn’t let it stop him, however. Fast fighters relied too heavily on the openings left after a swing for their strikes, and so all Tyr had to do was wait for Kean’s impatience to get the best of him. For a short while, it even worked, but when the white noble did strike, Tyr couldn’t find the blade until he felt it across his side. Tyr’s swing, while it covered a large area, failed to connect with anything because Kean stopped the attack with his free arm by grabbing onto Tyr’s wrists.

Without mercy, Kean slammed half a dozen blows into Tyr’s left side before the other hunter managed to break free and return to his battle stance. But just as he did there was no distance between them again. Even Nargacugas and Bulldromes let up on occasion, but Kean was no mere monster in a fight; he was a raging white demon. By the time Tyr figured out a strategy that might’ve worked, Kean had beaten away the stamina he would’ve needed to execute it. Tyr fell to one knee and his opponent immediately stopped. “Had enough?”

Panting, Tyr gave a nod in defeat. Sarah clapped lightly, but both girls came to Tyr’s side to check for injuries. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. It hurts, but I think my chakra was just strong-enough to keep up.”

“I’m glad to see the Guild’s synthetic ores are so effective,” Adaline said sourly to Kean. “And that you haven’t forgone them to increase your prowess in battle.”

“Future Sister, you always judge me too harshly. I would never disobey the Guild for an unfair advantage on the field.” Kean said. “My Beautiful Bride, is there no way to appease your sibling?”

“I’m afraid she’s rather set in her ways, Prince of Loc Lac.”

“My dear, won’t you ever just call me Husband?”

“Will you two ever just talk about me like I’m actually here?” Adaline asked.

“Of course, Future Sister. I apologize for our rudeness. Oh, and Blank Blade,” Kean stepped to one side and into Tyr’s direct line of sight. “In the future, you might want to remember that men are not beasts and that we do not fight like them.”

“Yeah, point taken.” Tyr stood up and took in a very deep breath. His body wasn’t sore, just exhausted. “Well, now that we’ve met and you’ve had your fun, may I be excused to get something to eat?”

“You’re not staying for dinner?” To their mutual surprise and embarrassment, all three royals had just spoken together.

“I didn’t think I was invited. Is it soon?” Tyr’s stomach growled audibly, but he wasn’t nearly as ashamed of it as Kean was, because he immediately handed Tyr an Energy Drink.

“That should hold you until dinner, assuming that you’ve eaten in the last few hours.”

“Sarah, will you and the Prince leave us for a few minutes? I need to discuss something with Tyr before dinner and I’m afraid I won’t have another opportunity like this one.” Adaline winked, just for them. “I promise I’ll mind my manners the rest of the evening.”

“You should always behave yourself, Adaline,” Sarah sighed. “But I’ll be holding you to that promise.” She held up a hand before Kean could excuse them. “What will happen if you break this promise?”

“I will…” As Adaline considered her answer, Tyr offered his own suggestion.

“She’ll spend the next month without calling for any personal guests.” Sarah grinned at this and quickly agreed before Adaline’s shock could wear away. Kean, spikes and all, escorted the Young Princess away.

“That wasn’t a very nice thing of you to say, Tyr.” Despite how playful she’d meant for the statement to sound, there was no denying an obvious twinge of sadness in Adaline’s voice. Tyr winced at it.

“I’m sorry for that, but you haven’t had to live with the rumors flying about at every hour and in every corner of your life in a new city. I thought I’d escaped those rumors when I left Nifila.”

“Have you always been such a center of attention with women?”

“Not exactly. It’s a more-recent development in my life which I wish I could avoid. Is this all you wanted to talk to me about? Again?” Tyr took this moment to gulp down the Energy Drink.

“Actually, it’s about Kean. Why in the world did you accept his challenge when you don’t know how to duel?”

“You can’t learn how to do something if you don’t try.”

“You may as well have gone up against the White Monoblos itself. You’d be dead now if this was a real hunt.”

“But it wasn’t a real hunt, and there wasn’t any real danger.”

“There’s always danger,” Adaline argued, grabbing his hand. “You have to be careful, no matter what happens you can’t just go out there and expect things to work out.”

“Adaline,” Tyr said, squeezing her hand, “I’m sorry, but what do you even know about hunting? About fighting? You’re a princess, like Sarah.”

She was silenced, and the sunlight shot the green of her dress into her hair. “You’re right. I’m a princess, not a hunter.” She let go of his hand and turned away. “Come on, the others are waiting.”

Kean and Sarah hadn’t talked about much. In fact, they weren’t talking at all by the time Tyr and Adaline joined them. “Lovers’ quarrel?” Adaline asked.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sarah said. “You promised you’d behave.”

“Of course, I’m sorry. No more jokes tonight.” An all-too-familiar bell echoed out of the inner halls. “Oh no, we’re going to be late.”

“Then I suppose we should run, no?” Though they laughed at first, they laughed a bit more when they realized Tyr was serious. “Last one there takes the blame?”

Adaline grinned. “About time Kean lost at something.”

“Addy,” Sarah started.

“What? There’s no way he’d let either of us take the blame.” They were off. All four of them dashing down the hallways, laughing and taunting each other. All the promises and defeats of the day melted away. Heartbeats raced, corridors echoed, and red and white and gold reflected the four in younger shades. Then large black doors brought them back. Kean let the girls race ahead of him in the end, to no one’s surprise, and Tyr brought up the rear. No one was blamed, but dinner was quiet all the same.

~

Tyr’s final fight in the arena before he earned his armor drew quite the crowd. In the short time he’d been there, many had been impressed by his unique solutions to fights they were certain he’d lose. As the Sand Barioth trotted into the arena the crowd stilled, and so did Tyr’s heart. “A flying wyvern…” he grunted, shifting as best he could into a more proper stance. “That figures.”

The Barioth, unlike his competition before, was mobile. When it came at him it wasn’t as head-heavy as a brute wyvern, but its arm-length tusks were certainly enough to make it just as dangerous. Tyr ducked under a wing, slashing upwards into nothing but air. The saber-toothed wyvern crashed its axe-like tail into his side and sent him flying across the arena floor.

Tyr swept around to the side, but the Barioth circled him in wider leaps thanks to its wings and powerful hind legs. He charged forwards, and was met with a blast of sand from the beast’s mouth which knocked him to the ground once more. This time the wyvern pounced atop him, tearing at his armor with rending claws. The sudden smell of dung wasn’t exactly a surprise, and nor was him waking up just outside the gates a few moments later. The Felyne Rescue Squad really couldn’t be beat when it came to saving a hunter’s life. “That’s one!” the announcer called. “How many more falls will the Blank Blade need to defeat his foe?!”

Tyr threw himself back into battle. A flash bomb offered him a small opening, enough to land a series of hits that normally would’ve at least helped to release his chakra, but there wasn’t even a flicker of white along his blade. The Sand Barioth whipped around as the flash wore off, devastating his health with the blow. He was getting tired of things hurting more than they should have. But his only way out was through, so as soon as he was healed he fade-slashed his way around an incoming charge. It wasn’t a fast way of killing, but with each narrow miss he made a mark, and that had to be enough.

It wasn’t enough though, because as the wyvern grew more and more furious it decided to kick up its game. A new blast of sand from its mouth became a whirlwind stretching into the sky. The Barioth leapt into the whirlwind, using the currents to circle higher and higher. Before Tyr could properly sheathe his katana to prepare for evading the strike, the wyvern shot down at him and the last thing he remembered were the blood-soaked claws.

“That’s two!” the announcer called. “This is it, folks. It’s now or never for our contestant!”

It hit like a cart full of bricks, and Tyr didn’t have the armor or the chakra to take it down the normal ways. Not that the Nargacuga had ever fully prepared him for what this wyvern was capable of anyways. So, he came up with a really bad idea. Tyr ran back to the center of the arena, drew his blade, and let the beast come. Tyr waited for it to charge him again before pulling his katana in front of his body like it was a great sword. There was an audible gasp from the crowd as they realized he was actually going to try and block with a longsword.

Long ago, Tyr had been told that blocking with a longsword was impossible. This was entirely true. The blade not only didn’t slow the Barioth down, it barely even absorbed the impact. As he was tossed backwards, Tyr flipped himself over, slid to a stop, and then charged the Barioth himself. It wasn’t the best of plans. Not even a good one, but while it recovered Tyr was able to throw everything he had into a massive thrust right into the wyvern’s mouth. The wyvern tried to roar, to pull back, but Tyr kept pushing and twisting like some sort of deviant lancer. When the Barioth leapt, it only pulled him along.

The beast howled and swept at Tyr, but so long as he kept to one side or the other, each swipe just knocked at his blade, cutting into the tender flesh inside its throat. The blood flowed down the hilt and over his hands, and when it coughed out a roar it soaked him through with crimson. He finally let it go, yanking the sword free and the Sand Barioth pulled back. It let out a gargled howl and tried to limp away back to its cage.

Normally, this was where the gunners launched a volley of sleep shots so powerful that even the Fatalis itself would nod off. This time, they stood watching while the crowd cheered. They watched Tyr in his triumph. They watched the suffering as blood pooled in the sands.

“What are you waiting for?” he called to them. “Put it down!” But they did nothing. Said nothing. He looked to one of the guard captains, to the crowd, and it dawned on him.  _ Am I… supposed to kill it? _ He’d killed the Rhennox, sure, but he’d had to do that to survive. He’d won this one. The Barioth had nowhere to go, no fight left in it. Why not let another hunter fight it another day? The crowd’s roars transformed into a confused murmuring. Tyr sheathed his sword, and that murmur turned angry. Even Commander Clay Claw sighed.

No one stepped up to finish the Barioth off. The crowd screamed for a fight, for something, but Tyr just stared as it limped, fell into a heap, and slowly died. The arena was quiet as Tyr walked away, back through the lobby where not even his friends could look at him.

“You’re some sort of fool, Blank Blade.” It was Clay Claw.

“I take it this means I’m done with The Guard?”

“You won’t be getting off that easily.” Clay Claw flicked her tail as their gazes met. “You’ll be scrubbing floors for the rest of your life.”

“Who’s to say I won’t just quit?”

“Because you’ll be too busy hunting when you’re not scrubbing to even think about it.”

Tyr smiled just as Adaline came rushing up. “Commander,” she said, breathless. "You can’t expel Tyr just for showing some mercy. He’s a good hunter, you say so yourself.”

“I know, Stunning Princess. That’s why he’s not being expelled.”

“I don’t care what you do or do not know. My father will…” She blinked. “Be… pleased to hear that.”

“I’m sure he will be,” Clay Claw replied. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, Blank Blade has some barracks to scrub in his new armor.”

There were more floors in the Guard Camp than Tyr had ever realized before. The dining hall, the barracks, the changing rooms for the communal bath, and even the commander’s home, each had to be washed to a shine daily. He was given plenty of dash juices to help himself through his exhaustion, but one day a long and spiked shadow interrupted his one real chore.

“I hear congratulations are in order, Blank Blade,” Kean said with a small smile.

Tyr was not smiling. He was too busy rubbing down the floors of the changing room. He hadn’t not been busy in three days. “Thank you… Prince of Loc Lac. Any big news from the castle?”

“We’re married,” he replied, and Tyr’s eyes shot up. Sarah was standing next to Kean, doing her best to smile. Her white dress was brilliant in the afternoon sunlight. Tyr wondered if white was the traditional bride color for this part of the continent, or if she was merely dressed to match.

“Congratulations, and many years of happiness to you both. I’m sorry if I don’t sound pleased. My chakra,” he began.

“No need to explain. I’ve heard the story more than a few times now. They say it happened in a fight with a Silver Rathalos. Is that true?” Tyr made a small nod. “It’s incredible to think you survived at all.”

Tyr didn’t respond, and so the three stared at each other for a long while. Sarah’s hair fell in waterfalls over her bare shoulders, so much darker than the empty blue sky behind her.


	8. My First Hunt

Sand got into everything. Into the joints of his black and gold armor, into his bluzel eyes, in his already sand-soaked mouth. Everything. What was worse is that it was hot. Hot sand, hot air, hot armor. "It breathes well," one of the other guards had told Tyr, but that didn't mean much to someone not used to such extreme temperatures. Hunting out here for just a few hours was harder than doing it for a whole day back home. Part of it, he kept reminding himself, had to be that his chakra was still weak. This meant that the Cool Drinks weren't nearly as effective, and so Tyr had to take twice as many as anyone else to keep half as comfortable.

"Keep at it, Blank," Orion called back with a laugh. "It's only a desert. The Cephalos can't hide forever!"

"I thought that was the whole reason we were out here," Tyr said. "Caravans getting attacked by hidden Cephalos and all."

"Sarcasm, Tyr. Look it up."

That really should have been more obvious. At least there was rhythm and a pattern to what they were doing. Hunting was about methodical searches, not random ones. It was about knowing a wyvern, a pelagus, or even a crustacean well enough to know their habits. This was where local hunters like Orion came in handy, because for Tyr to try and guess what habits a Cephalos would have from stories would've been harder than surviving the desert heat without a Cool Drink. Not that hunters hadn't done it before, and wouldn't do it again, but it was a real timesaver to have Orion there instead of luck. Luck had never really been on his side, after all.

They arrived at the last known location of the sand sharks, the site of the last attack, and found that they hadn't gotten far at all. Three Cephalos circled the camp while a fourth tore at the carcass of the Aptonoth which had been used to pull the cart. Tyr briefly wondered if this was what had happened to the Aptonoth that had been hauling his own cart.

The way Orion charged at the beasts, his water-edged dual blades in hand, Tyr would've never classified him as a captain of the city guard. No grace, no fashion, but he had speed and a fighting style that was highly effective.

Using his dual blades like climbing picks, he stabbed through armor and scales until he was atop whatever he was fighting, and then he'd just stab repeatedly. Most hunters needed to launch themselves into the air and hope for a good opening in order to mount a monster, but not Orion. His blades had a special elongated serration just so he could keep his grip, and not even the violent thrashings of the Cephalos could whip him off. In fact, before Tyr could catch up to his first friend in the guard, one of the four was already dead. The other three were nowhere to be seen though.

"Did they run?" Tyr asked aloud. Cephalos didn't often run, that much he'd read in the notes, but they had a trick. What was it?

"Below you!" Orion called back, and Tyr barely had time to roll before a Cephalos emerged from beneath the sands. He turned to draw his sword and a blast of sand hit him square in the chest, sending him flipping backwards.

Tyr regained his footing fast-enough to give him a moment to watch. The Cephalos circled the area, but kept their fins above the sand until just before a strike. Tremorsense. That was the word that someone had used to describe how they knew when to attack, and that was also how to stop them. Waiting until the sand shark dove, Tyr crushed a small ball in his hand and tossed it forward. "Sonic!" he shouted as he covered his ears. The blast of sound that the bug inside shrieked out as it died was loud-enough to disrupt the beast's ability to sonically shift sand, and it had no choice but to fling itself out of the earth. Then, the Nifilan Edge cut into its soft underside as it flopped to regain composure.

Slash after slash, stab after stab, the beast stood little chance after being thrown so far off its game. Blood trickled down into the sand, and Tyr was almost too distracted by the spontaneity of the death to remember that there were others. He rolled just as a blast of sand struck his first kill, and reached for another Sonic Bomb. With a smirk, he tossed it behind himself and waited until he heard the thud of the Cephalos on the sands. Then, it was just a matter of repeating the slaughter. Midway into his second swing, however, another blast knocked both Orion and Tyr from the fight. When they recovered, a giant brown fin, easily twice the size of the Cephalos', swept between them before circling out. The more worrying part was the matching fin that joined it.

"Well… shit," Orion said, taking a moment to sharpen his blades.

"What is that thing?"

"Cephadrome. Big ones. It's gonna be a real hassle since we're just trying to take down the young."

"What, you don't think one of them is the leader?"

"What I think," Orion said, watching the trio of fins cutting through the sand, "Is that we weren't contracted for anything but Cephalos, and so the Dromes need to be left alone."

"What a load of dung." Tyr gripped his final Sonic Bomb and ran straight for the incoming group. Orion, of course, was faster, even with his weapons drawn, and when they both tossed their bombs at the same time there was a moment of frustration. With all four of the wyverns flopping about in the sand, the two hunters naturally split up.

Since neither could be quite as quick while dodging tail swipes, sand blasts, and the occasional hip check, the battle seemed as though it would never subside. Tyr swung his blade into and through his wyvern's legs, while Orion stuck to his tried and true method of ripping holes into the beast's neck.

Blood spattered everything. Their polished black armor glinted darkly every time the shadows of their opponents passed and the sun struck them once more. In the sand, tiny puddles of crimson mud slowed any attempt to move. The heat baked the blood, increasing the potency of the noxious smell. When Orion's target finally fell on its side, he leapt off the wyvern and right into a new blast of sand.

More had been summoned.

"Tyr!" he called. "We've got trouble!"

Half a dozen more fins had appeared in the sands, two already close enough to be the trouble, and the others not far off from becoming so.

"Guess so. What's the plan?" Tyr asked as he rolled out to a safer distance.

"The plan is we run and come back with a bigger team." Orion shouted as he sprinted away, checking over his shoulder as he did. As he checked the second time, Tyr had stopped and was facing the gang of piscine wyverns who were still none too happy with them. "What the Deviljho is your problem recruit?!"

"Never abandoned a hunt before. Not about to start now." Despite the heat, despite even the weight of his armor, Tyr stood tall, one hand poised at the hilt of his katana while the Cephadromes and their goons took to the sands.

Orion stopped. "By the Fata, he can't be serious." But, even as he said it, Orion knew that his nearly chakra-free companion wasn't about to budge. "When this is over," he called out as he ran back to the fight. "I am going to kill you, whether you're dead or not."

"Sounds good to me," Tyr said with a surprising chuckle. "Just make certain you don't climb on top of me to do it. I'd hate for the city to get the wrong impression." There was a flicker around his blade, a glow that Orion knew all too well. "You ready, Captain?"

"No, but when has that ever stopped me?" The blood on his armor evaporated into nothing more than stains as a fiery red aura surrounded his body. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"Never have," Tyr said. "But when has that ever stopped me?"

Back across the sands, Oliarta sighed as she waited in the Guild Hall. Tyr and Orion had been gone for nearly three hours on what should've been a twenty-minute quest. An hour with travel time. If she hadn't been in the middle of wooing a particularly attractive sergeant at the time they accepted the quest, she'd have been out there with them and maybe they'd be back by now. "Boys are so useless sometimes."

"Far be it from me to disagree," the bartender said as he poured her another drink.

"They are. Always going off on quests and junks and hunts and just dicking around instead of getting things done. I mean they were Cephalos for crying out… out… at all." Perhaps sixteen drinks was enough, but what did it even matter after about eight? The Guild Halls and taverns had all been built for keeping drunks inside. Anyone who went through a doorway in or out of the hall would have their chakra cleansed of impurities. It worked for a lot more than just alcohol, and it was one of the best reasons to report back to the Guild after every hunt. It was still a mystery how the Guild did it, how they did most of what they did, but it worked and that was all that mattered. "They're just dumb."

"Glad to know that's how you think of us," Orion said as he limped inside, holding up the nearly unconscious Tyr who barely stumbled in with him. Guildies, nearly a dozen by Oliarta's drunken count, rushed to get the four settled down somewhere while a healer was called from the back. The guardswoman got to her feet and nearly tripped her way to the others. One foot, then the other foot, she reminded herself.

"What tooked you?" she accused the second Orion. Had there always been two Orions?

" _Your_  friend here got it in his head that," he winced as the medic lifted up an arm to check for breaks; sand mixed with blood fell out onto the floor. "That taking down half a dozen Cephalos at once was no big deal."

"Iss snot."

"It is when there's a Cephadrome or two with them."

"Thas stupid. You're stupid."

"Yeah, but we got quite the haul to show for it." Orion handed the nearest Guildie the hunting slip. "Done and done, three times over. And, soldier, I want you to sober up before you say another word. Had enough trouble today."

Oliarta saluted. She didn't know how not to when given an order. As she stumbled out the front door her head cleared, and the full impact of her comrades' state hit her. Rushing back in, she made her way to Tyr and reared a hand back to give him a wallop upside the head, but he was fast asleep. "He nearly got you killed," she explained to Orion, even though she didn't need to. "Why'd you let him do that?"

"I had to so he wouldn't get himself killed." There was a look in Orion's eyes that Oliarta hadn't ever seen before. It wasn't the stare of admiration he had for Commander Clay Claw, or the look he gave senior Guild officials when they came for inspections, or even the leer he saved for a girl that he was trying to impress with a tale of his exaggerated exploits. It was all of them, and none of them at once.

"What is it?" she asked.

"He's one hell of a hunter."

"You say that about everyone."

"I should probably stop that then."

They both stared at Tyr for a while longer, and it was hard for either to believe that the dark-haired hunter, caked in blood and sand from a quest that most would've abandoned or needed much better equipment to complete, could really have done what he did with an additional handicap. It was difficult to think what kind of hunter he was before being broken, and what sort of power it must have taken to shatter a man capable of hunting on his level. And it was unimaginable, inconceivable, that that smile he wore on his lips was masking nightmares they wouldn't understand.


	9. As Time Draws On

"That blade needs an upgrade, and you know it."

Tyr studied the Nifilan Edge in his hands. Dull as it was, he sharpened it to the best of his ability every day, and continued to use it despite the abundance of materials he'd gathered which could make a more-powerful blade. Molin was right though, he was going to need something sharper if he was going to hunt something more powerful than the tiny Copper Blangonga he'd just barely managed to kill within day-long time limit, even with help.

"Maybe you're right… but I can't just let the smith here work on it."

"And why not? We've got a fine smith."

"But he doesn't understand the importance of this katana, and he never could. No, if I have Jacob do any work it'll be for a new blade."

"And what'll you do with that one then?"

"Well," Tyr said as he slid off his bunk next to his red-haired companion. "I think I'll keep it. Maybe I can send it back home some day for an upgrade."

Molin laughed. "That's right, I forgot you can't go back there. That really sucks." Molin had a way of taking bad news in stride. It was probably infuriating on some level, but whether it was just his chakra or his patience, Tyr didn't mind. This apathy about his attitude was what Molin liked about Tyr, and what made them an excellent team, even better than Jaruk sometimes. As much as he proved himself on the field, Tyr wasn't generally considered the best of hunting partners. He was stoic, gloomy, had no concept of being outmatched, and he didn't have great equipment. So, in order to keep morale up, Clay Claw would only assign him missions he could complete with one or more of the handful of people that liked to hunt with him. And, since Molin found himself in the same boat, they were often paired.

"Well, then you better get to it because I hear we've got another mission coming up."

"What could they want from us so soon?"

"Guard duty. I hear your girlfriend requested us herself."

Tyr still wasn't responding. For three months he had been silent about the issue. And, so long as he received special treatment from Adaline, the taunting was never going to end. Even so, he found that ignoring them at least kept the goading down a bit. "Where're we going to?"

"Loc Lac. And it's the peak of trading season."

"Then maybe I can get myself a new blade there instead."

"I'd suggest getting it beforehand, and then maybe a second one while you're there. You can't have too many weapons."

"The armory might disagree with you on that. I hear they had to clear out a whole section to support your surplus," Oliarta interjected from her own bunk. "And I'm glad to hear you're finally getting yourself something new, Tyr."

"Who else is coming?" Tyr asked.

"Orion, of course, Guard of Death too, Molin, you, me, Jaruk, Hammer Maiden, and… blast… umm…" She paused for a long moment, rubbing her forehead to try and help her concentrate. "New girl… uses the chain daggers…"

"Dervish Guard?" Molin hazarded.

"That's the one! So, eight of us in total, as usual."

"And since Orion can't fraternize while on the trip," Molin mused, "That leaves the perfect ratio of men to women."

"My thoughts exactly," Oliarta said with a grin. Tyr just shook his head and took off. "Hey! Come on!" Almost instantly they were right beside him; they each hit him in one of his shoulders. "We were just kidding around. Everyone knows you and Adaline aren't really a thing."

"Yet," Molin chimed in, and Oliarta hit his shoulder much harder than she had Tyr's.

"Hey! Okay! Let's stop all this nonsense and get to getting you a new weapon. You gonna try something besides a longsword this time?"

"Nah. I don't have the skill with another weapon to hunt with my chakra like this."

"What if that's the problem?" Molin asked. "What if your body doesn't recover because it's stuck on longswords and how to manage chakra with them?"

"You a medic now, Molin?" Oliarta replied.

"He may be right, but I can't risk anyone's life on a maybe," Tyr said as they approached Jacob's shop.

He was a thick-skinned man with strikingly white hair. He styled it up in the front, bringing every strand he could into a twisted horn which then flowed back to a long ponytail that he kept slung over one shoulder. Over his other shoulder he typically carried his blacksmith's hammer, or his latest creation, whichever was more appropriate. When Tyr approached, he was just handing off a set of dual blades to an excited young girl that reminded him of Natalie.

It stopped him in his tracks, and by the time anyone noticed it he was a dozen steps behind. Was it that all young girls wanted to study dual blades? Or was it just fate playing games with him?

"Tyr? You okay?" Oliarta sounded more worried than he'd expected, and when he looked at her she seemed blurry.

He wiped the tears from his eyes before he replied. "Just thinking of home," he said as he stepped past her and up to the smith. "I'd like to commission a katana."

"Sure," Jacob replied. "Whatcha wan'?"

"Had to hunt down a couple Hapurus for all the materials, but I'd like something made from what I have in storage." He handed over his hunter's badge without another word, because nothing else needed to be said. The materials for the blade would be taken out of his storage, the zenny taken from his account, and he would be contacted by official runners when it was finished. As soon as Jacob took note of his Hunter Registration number, he handed it back and the three went on their way.

"So, Hapu Katana. You're an adventurous one." Molin chuckled a bit.

Oliarta raised an eyebrow. "Is that sarcasm?"

"Not at all. I've just never heard of anyone who wanted one. The materials are hard to break down to something as thin as a katana."

"That's why I've asked a skilled blacksmith instead of doing so myself," Tyr finished just as they turned on the main street towards the arena. There hadn't been a day in the city where he didn't go. There was something about the experience that he couldn't escape, a magnetic force that drove him to enter or to watch whenever he could. It was excellent training when he fought, so at least that half wasn't an issue, but why he watched was another matter.

Studying other styles had been the initial excuse. He wanted to know how other hunters fought and combat strategies for wyverns he would eventually have to fell. But, at some point, he had to admit to himself that he'd seen the host of opponents available in Fahrenn. Even the multitude of hunters who entered the arena became familiar to him, and so did the way they fought. So, he'd tried excusing his continued presence as a distraction, but more and more the fights reminded him of all he should've done instead of what he did do. His final excuse had been that his friends were there. That was when he found himself at the arena late one day when most others had gone home or to sleep, just to watch Dervish Guard practice against a fresh Rhennox. He'd been one of four people there. After that night, the excuses stopped, but the question remained.

Tyr wasn't the only one surprised at what he saw that day. It was Kean in the middle of what could only be described as a mass of Blangongas. The horde crashed and roared, tore and bit, lifted chunks of earth and sent them slamming into the ground, but Kean fought the tide with all he was. How many had already died? And how many were left? Tyr could barely tell, even with his eyes engrossed on the field.

Kean was more than a white blur, he was the spectral hand of death given form. He used the spikes on his armor as secondary weapons, ramming them into and through attacking pelagii nearly as fast as he gutted them with his sword. His entire body had been made into a weapon, and yet not a drop of blood had made it past the spikes to stain his ice-white armor. It was similar to watching Azusa, but Kean didn't have the same aura or presentation.

"He's good," Molin said.

"Not nearly as good as our Tyr though," Oliarta countered.

"I don't recall the last time I took on a sea of Blangongas alone."

"It doesn't matter. He's doing it just to show off."

"Would you be saying that if he were a Legend?" Tyr asked.

Kean was ruthless, deadly, but the Blangongas still overran him after five minutes, and the arena guards had to flood the arena with a rain of sleep shots and dung pods to keep him alive. Still, when all was said and done he had killed eight of the twenty-four he'd commanded them to release.

"What a show, ladies and gentlemen! Give it up for Prince of Loc Lac!" The announcer's booming voice echoed through the crowd. It was hard to read their emotion at his loss, or his victory. Tyr wasn't certain how to classify eight kills against overwhelming odds.

"Well, he's still no Legend. And so I can say whatever I want about him. Prince or not."

"True. So long as no loyalists report you, you're free to say anything," Molin said loftily. "Speaking of loyalists, your princesses are waving, Tyr."

True enough, Adaline and Sarah were both smiling and waving in their direction. They all waved back, some with more enthusiasm than others, and, when beckoned by Adaline they all approached dutifully.

"Guards, I trust you're all having fun?" she asked with a particular smile for Tyr.

"As much as can be expected," Molin replied. "And yourself, Doting Princess?"

"Well, I would be doing better if the Prince of Loc Lac didn't insist on me being dragged along to every event held in his name. He's married to my sister, after all, not me." When she turned her head to give Sarah a look, her sister had already gone. "And she always rushes off to be by his side, even when there are more…" She took a pause to take a sideways glance at Tyr. " _Interesting_  things somewhere else."

"Not all that is interesting is good, Princess" Tyr replied.

"Most are good," Oliarta said.

"Speaking of which," Adaline said, and her guards immediately stood at attention. "Tyr, I'm interested in having a conversation with you about our travel plans."

"Wouldn't something like this be better discussed with Orion?"

"He's not the one my father requested I bring to dinner." All eyes went to Tyr, who took the news without the level of shock one might expect from the typical low-ranking guard who'd been asked to dinner with the King. Not that Tyr was your typical low-ranking guard in the first place.

"When's dinner?"

"Tonight, and until then I'd like you to accompany me around the city. I've some shopping to do, and I want you to be prepared for what you'll be doing in Loc Lac." There was a smirk in her words, but she hid it from her face. "You two are… Molin and Oliarta, yes?"

"That is correct, Doting Princess," the addressed answered, uncertain why she'd be using their names to address them. They both swallowed as hard as Tyr should have.

"You have both made it perfectly clear that you are his friends. So, I want to inform you that if I hear another whisper on the winds that either of you have been taunting him about me… well, let's just say that I know you Commander very well." She turned herself to them, and the hem of her dangerously short dress fluttered in the winds that swept through the arena. "Am I clear?"

"Clear as purecrystal," they replied.

"Then you may go about your business. And do have some fun while you're at it. I hear tell Climbing Captain is nothing like himself while he's on active duty." A smile, as short as her dress, and then she made to leave. "Come along, Tyr. I'd love to keep the Prince waiting, but I can't afford to today."

Although Oliarta and Molin tried to exchange meaningful looks with Tyr, he didn't bother returning them. Instead, he walked alongside Adaline down the halls that led out of the royal booth and back towards the ground level. "I don't appreciate you threatening them," he said once they were out of range from any prying ears.

"I don't appreciate being treated as a joke, especially when I take our relationship quite seriously."

"And I take their friendship seriously, Adaline. So, don't do it again. Please." They slowed to a stop at the top of the stairs and exchanged a long look. Then Adaline turned, raised herself up to her toes and slowly kissed Tyr on the lips. Tyr, in turn, wrapped his arms around the princess and brought her in closer. For a few moments they stood there, gently pressed against each other as their lips clung to the tiny sparks that trickled beneath their skin. When his arms fell back to his sides, Adaline obediently stepped back to a safer distance and they continued on down.

"Alright then, I won't threaten them again. Not that I think it'll be necessary after doing it once." She wore a thin smile as she descended ahead of him, and her purple dress swished back and forth with her hips. "So, about your duties in Loc Lac. I'll require a personal guard at all times of the day and night, and so I requested you, naturally. The others will be allowed to do as they please, but you are not to leave my sight, and I am certainly never to leave yours."

"Adaline, you know I'm not going to do that. I'll be your guard, but I won't be watching you take your baths."

"Not even if I say please?"

"That only works one way, and you know it."

They made a brief stop at the infirmary to check on Kean and Sarah, who both waved politely to them. "I thought he wasn't going to be your guard until Loc Lac," Kean said with a grunt of pain. Apparently, he was still having some trouble with his wounds.

"I'm acclimating him."

"I believe the term is torturing," Sarah responded, whipping her blue hair over her shoulder as she turned to them. "It is good to see you again, Blank Blade. It has been too long."

"Since the day of the wedding," Tyr replied. If anyone noticed the brief glimpse towards the floor, or the way Sarah pushed her hair back behind her ear, they said nothing about it. "Are you going to be coming with the caravan to Loc Lac?"

It was Kean who responded on behalf of his wife. "Actually, we'll be heading there a few days later. There are things that need to be taken care of here before we can return home."

"Then we'll see you there," Adaline said on behalf of her guard. "Until then, we've things to take care of."

With little else to say, and less to say in front of everyone present, Tyr and Adaline left the couple alone to recover. Sarah, having watched them leave for a little too long, turned her attention back to her injured husband. "You don't have to keep trying to outdo every Legend you hear about."

"Azusa is only a Legend because she practiced enough to be one. No one is born a Legend, and if she can become one at such a young age, then so can I." He laid back in bed and winced at his bandaged sides. "I just don't know what I'm doing wrong."

"Perhaps her choice of weapon allows her an advantage?"

"There is no such thing!" Kean's fist hit the bed hard enough to make himself cringe, so he continued with a forced calm. "Every type of weapon has its strengths and weaknesses so that no one is objectively better than the others. Her gunhammer hits hard, but I should have the speed and accuracy advantage…" With a deep sigh, he settled down.

"I don't pretend to know much about hunting, Kean, but what I do know is that the gods don't appreciate envy or lust." She tried to smile, let him know she was only kidding, but he knew she believed.

"If the gods want to stop me, then they'll have to do a lot better than they have thus far." Kean sat up slowly, fighting back to urge to cry out in pain as he grabbed his Monoblade. "Because I will be a Legend. And I will stop at nothing to make certain of just that."

The light of Sol did not glint off the blade of Tyr's newest katana. The Hapurubokka shells weren't known for their sheen, and neither was the sharpened bone used to craft the blade's edge. Still, it was far sharper than the Nifilan edge, and stronger as well. The Genprey he was fighting realized this the hard way when it made an ill-fated lunge at the young hunter and found itself cleaved in two before it could hit the ground. There had been a dozen small encounters like this one during the past two days, fighting off the minor beasts of the desert, and yet nothing larger than the princess' carriage had been within half a dozen kilometers of them.

For most of the group, this wasn't a problem at all, but Dervish Guard was itching to prove herself to the group and the Princess. "And besides all that," she explained to Tyr while her daggers cut through a Genprey's neck. "Feora needs to get out of this desert heat soon, and the best way to do that is to get on the Princess' good side."

"You do know that if you just asked," he said, slashing through the last of the attacking predators. "She'd probably say yes."

"But how am I supposed to even talk to her?" Dervish Guard whined as she slid her daggers into their sheathes at her side, the chain around her waist like a belt.

"You just do, Dervish Guard," Oliarta said while she put her own greatsword away, reattaching it to its holding strap. "Doting Princess is the approachable one in the family."

"But what if she says no?"

"Then your little Lagombi will have to walk," Molin said. "It'll make him stronger."

"Feora isn't a Lagombi! She's one of those Felyne subspecies, you know. They call them Pahndas."

"Whatever it is, we're moving on," their Captain said in a tone which could only be described as final. "And if anyone's gonna talk to the princess, it'll be Blank Blade. She's asking for him again."

Everyone would've given Tyr a look, but most of them were preoccupied with other things. When he stepped inside the carriage, however, he was surprised to see that there was curtain drawn across the center. He hadn't noticed one of those in Sarah's carriage. "Adaline?"

"Oh, Tyr. You're early." She pulled back the curtains a bit and peeked out at him, showing a bare shoulder. "I was just changing into something a little cooler. Unless you'd like to see me as I am?" Fluttering her eyelashes, she started drawing the curtains back again and Tyr shut his eyes tight. "Fine then." There was a violent swish as the curtains closed. "How have things been out there? I trust there's been nothing too difficult?"

"Nothing that any hunter hasn't had to deal with from time to time. How has the trip been for you?"

"Just fine. But I forgot how hot the desert can be without proper ventilation. This whole carriage thing is dreadful." The curtain opened almost as suddenly as it'd been closed, and Adaline sat in an incredible outfit. Her pants billowed slightly all the way down to her ankles, which would've been normal enough if not for the fabric. It must have been made of some fine material, because it was fairly transparent and dyed the richest white. And her top looked as though someone had taken a shirt and then chopped off most of it so that now it only covered what would've otherwise been indecent and her shoulders.

Tyr had seen a few female hunters wear armor that covered less, that was certain, but with the transparent nature of her outer layers, that didn't matter much. "But I suppose it could be worse. I could be out there in all that heavy black armor." When she noticed that he was staring, she leaned forward and smiled. "Problem?"

"I…" he shook his head and forced his eyes back up to meet hers. "I've just never seen an outfit quite like yours. What… is that fabric?"

"You know, I've honestly never asked. Sarah would know though. All I know is that it looks nice and breathes well." Adaline smiled coyly and moved so that she was sitting next to him. "What I really brought you in here for was to ask you a question I couldn't in the city."

He scooted away slightly and looked away, making certain to give her room. "Which is?"

"You wish I was Sarah, don't you?"

When he looked back at her he could see the tears that weren't apparent in her voice, but wasn't certain how he was supposed to feel about them. Angry? Sad? Emotional confusion didn't hit him as often as it used to, but it always seemed to happen at the worst moments. "I… why do you ask that?"

"Because I've done everything I can these past few months. I've come to talk to you every day I can get away. I've offered you anything you want, and I'd slow down if you would only ever ask me to, but it's not enough for some reason. I saw the two of you with my own eyes, so I just want to know what she's done that I haven't." She was crying, and Tyr had never seen her cry. Tyr hadn't really seen anyone cry in the last few months, and hadn't seen anyone cry because of him since leaving home.

"Adaline, I don't… I would never… I'm not sure what to say. I'm sorry."

"Then think on it, please. Think of what you have to say and tell me while we're in the city, please."

"Adaline, I-"

"Just please, Tyr. If I'm not right for you then I want to know why, and I want to know why it's still her even though she's taken." With a surprising amount of control given her tears moments before, the Princess moved back to her side of the cart and motioned to the door. "Please, leave me be."

Adaline couldn't watch as Tyr stepped back out into the desert heat, taking one of her heartbeats with him, and she sighed heavily when the door finally closed. Her head hit the back of the carriage, and then it hit it again, and again. "I wish someone would tell me how to tell someone you love them when all you've done is lie to them."

The Sea of Sand wasn't as sudden as most people made it out to be. In fact, one could find themselves nearly a kilometer in before noticing that they were sinking in some zones. Most people learned where the shore was through guides that led them to the docks, and the caravan was no stranger to the experience. When they arrived, a sleek sailing vessel awaited them, and yet Tyr wondered how it would ever move.

He'd heard the stories, of course. The tales of sands that flowed like water. It was said that one could drown out there, and yet it was in the center of that great sea that Loc Lac stood, built into a massive stone island that held the only body of water for a long, long ways. Seeing Adaline still in her white outfit put plenty of the sailors in the mood for whistling, and even the guards couldn't help but steal an appreciative glance or two at the princess when no one else was looking. She ignored them all and introduced herself to the captain with all the grace and dignity one would expect from royalty.

"I am Princess of Fahrenn. My guards and I are here for entrance into Loc Lac, and we precede Prince of Loc Lac and his new wife by two days." She handed the Ship Captain a folded note which she produced from beneath the small amount of fabric over one of her shoulders. "This will explain it all."

After an exaggerated examination of the note, and a few glances at the woman who gave it to him, the Ship Captain agreed that all was in order. The guards, who together knew about as much about sailing as they did flying through the stars, boarded the ships a bit more-cautiously than their fearless royal leader. Even Orion, who'd been on this trip a dozen times before, took a deep breath before boarding.

"These sand boats aren't natural things," Orion told Oliarta as they settled down into their rooms. Everyone was paired off to keep fraternizing at a minimum, which meant that Oliarta and Orion were together, Molin and Jaruk, Tyr and Hammer Maiden, and then the most-obvious pairing of Guard of Death and Dervish Guard.

"The Sea of Sand is natural enough, so I don't see why sand boats wouldn't be," Oliarta replied.

"They just aren't…" Orion groaned.

"What's not natural is you rooming Tyr and Hammer Maiden instead of Guard of Death and Hammer Maiden."

"Hammer Maiden's not the kind to have any interest in a guy like Tyr. And, more importantly, Hammer Maiden will likely end up by herself if the princess has her way."

"You sneaky little Diablos," Oliarta said, while down the hall there was a different kind of conversation going on.

"You bore me," Hammer Maiden said with a sigh. "For someone who's supposed to be dating the Princess, you don't seem all that exciting."

"I apologize for not being more gossip-worthy, but it's going to be a long ride. Maybe we should find something other to do than be disappointed in each other."

"What you do isn't really my concern," she replied. "I'm going to go on deck and see if there isn't more to this ship than our quarters." With that, she left, and Tyr found himself oddly alone for the first time since he joined the Guard. He had no reason to bother the others, and especially not to bother Adaline.

So, he thought. He thought of Sarah and Adaline, of what they'd both done and said since he met them. He thought of Orion, Oliarta, even Molin, and how they'd encouraged him to be his best despite his chakra being broken. He thought of Hammer Maiden's apathy, of Dervish Guard's worrying, and even of Kean's brutality. Then, of course, he thought of himself. Of hunts he would've done alone back home that he could barely finish in a group now. Of the people he'd left behind in Nifila. Of all the things he'd missed out on because of his chakra.

The sad and terrible truth was that through all of it he didn't feel much at all. He had been improving, every hunt a little better, every day an inkling of feelings, but it still wasn't much. He felt like was experiencing the emotions from a distance. Like the happiness and the sadness were only loosely attached. It didn't make him want to cry, or to smile, it just shifted his stomach a bit in some small direction. And every direction seemed bad except for the ones that brought it closer to his heart.

It wasn't fair, but he was used to that. His mother's inability to speak wasn't very fair to her. Natalie had died because of him, even though he had only tried to help her. The way the Guild treated Nifila, like it was just any other place in the world. The way the Guild had treated him, acting like he was some rebel, some problem because he took care of the things no one else would before it was too late. The Guild had never understood, and it had made his life infinitely more difficult at every step of the way. He hated the Guild. But even that hate was just a muted remnant of what it should have been.

Tyr was so consumed with his thoughts that he almost didn't notice Hammer Maiden returning. "Back so soon?"

"I didn't know you were capable of sarcasm."

"What do you mean?"

"It's nearly solset. I have been gone for a long time."

Tyr sat upright. "You're kidding."

"Are we just going to accuse each other of things that aren't true all evening? Because I'd prefer to go to bed."

Adaline didn't have her way, as Orion had put it, and by noon the next day, the island city came into view. Loc Lac was a city unlike any other built in the world. The massive stone slab that housed it had been carved from a mountain, the only known bit of solid land in the entire area, and it had taken a hundred years to complete its construction. All that was a long time before Adaline and her entourage arrived in the harbor, located deep within the bowls of the city, where the majority of the populace lived, safe from sandstorms and the occasional attacks from Jhen Mohran. The Loc Lac most hunters knew, however, lay at the top of the spiraling staircase.

"Now, since none of you have ever been to Loc Lac before there are three things you need to remember. One: Stay away from the edge of the city. A good, strong breeze and you'll find yourself at the bottom of a sandy grave. Two: Merchants are on the east side of town, and the Hunters live on the west side of town. Don't get the two confused." Orion rattled all of this off as though he'd done it a thousand times before. Perhaps he even had.

"And what's the third, Captain?"

"The third thing is that if the Jhen Mohran comes to town, not a one of you is going to even try and sign up for it, or I'll personally toss you into the Sea of Sand and make certain you don't come back. It'll be less painful for your families. Is that understood?"

"Sir, yes sir," they all chimed back.

"Good," Orion said. "Well then, all that's left to do is have some fun while we're here." As he said this, the party reached the upper landing and several of their jaws dropped. North of them was the city, a sprawling metropolis complete with an incredibly large lake and the famed Loc Lac Tower. People of all shapes, sizes, and Hunter Ranks bustled about in their business, and hardly anyone paid a lick of attention to the group of black-armored guards and their lovely princess. After nearly a fortnight of nothing but sand, it was a welcome change.

Had the party turned around, they would have seen the vast and endless sea they'd just crossed, its rolling waves dotted with the occasional hint of some giant wyvern or another. They would have wondered at how the pale blue sky cut sharply into the swirling browns and tans, instead of mixing together like they so often did along the horizon. If they'd turned around, then Oliarta might not've been almost knocked down by a man in shining Uragaan who was too proud to alter his course.

"Watch where you're going!"

"Bite me," the man called back as he ran his way past the stone pedestals that served as the city's gate.

"My fun is gonna be finding that jerk and showing him what a real hunter can do…" Oliarta said, marching off after him.

"We meet back at these gates in a week, Motherly!"

"Got it, Captain!"

Orion sighed, and dismissed the rest of them. "Doting Princess, if you'll excuse me, I have business of my own to attend to."

"You may go, Climbing Captain. I have Tyr should I need anything of the Guard." She smiled as the last of the soldiers who were only soldiers for the journey left her, and turned her attention to her personal escort. "Tyr, where would you like to go?" There was a softness in her voice, perhaps a melancholy, that he hadn't heard from her before, not even when she was crying in the carriage.

"I thought I was here as your escort," he replied.

"That was just the official excuse. I really just wanted to have you with me. On a kind of… week-long date?" It seemed to Tyr that Adaline was finally uncomfortable with something she was doing, which was another oddity. Even when she'd proposed the 'kiss for a favor' deal she had been bristling with confidence. Was she really that nervous about something he technically couldn't say no to?

"I've already bee-"

"No, Tyr. You have to want to this time. If you don't want to then I'll get one of the others to escort me around, but…" Her gaze fell, and Tyr was distracted for a moment by the sunlight glinting off her brilliantly golden hair. "I want a chance to show you what I'm like when I'm not Doting Princess. Who I am when I don't have to be my title."

"I don't see why… Yes," Tyr said, and in an instant she was beaming at him. "But I'll need to buy myself some casual clothes. If I'm not on duty then I'm not going to wear armor all day long. And I still won't be watching you bathe."

"That's alright," she said, taking a hold of his gloved hand and pulling him along. "That's more than alright."

They headed eastwards, and, before Tyr could fully appreciate what was happening he found himself in a changing room with a set of loose-fitting, wine-red clothes. His armor was removed, and sent by runners to the Princess's room, and Adaline's smile was easily twice as enthusiastic when they were out on the town. True to her original promise, they spent the majority of the first day shopping.

She would always ask his opinion on anything she tried on or looked at for more than a minute at a time, and would offer to buy him anything he seemed interested in in more than just a fleeting way. He politely declined most of it, since he could afford anything he thought he needed, but soon enough she backed him into a corner.

"You really like it, right? So why can't I just buy this one thing for you?"

"Adaline, really, it's a lovely thought but it's just a trinket."

She shook her head. "You've picked it up four times now since we've been here. It's got to mean more to you than that."

"I just find it beautiful…" he said, examining the sparkling blue pendant, carved in the shape of a Rathian. "Back in Nifila, I killed both Rathalos and Rathians on what seemed like a daily basis for the villagers. I had to deal with the Los more often, and the armor worked better for my needs as a solo hunter… but I always liked the Rathian more."

"Then let me buy you this one thing."

"It's not worth the price they're asking for it though. It's just finely carved machalite."

"But you're worth it," she said in a much softer tone, and that was when Tyr knew he couldn't argue any more.

"Alright, Adaline. I'd love it." It was an exaggeration, but still Tyr found himself smiling as she quickly purchased the overpriced necklace, and continued to smile as she offered to put it around his neck. He declined to let her, however, and pocketed the necklace instead. "I'd rather just make certain it was kept close to me."

"Thank you, Tyr," she said as they left the stall, heading towards a less-crowded portion of the city as Sol began to set.

"For what? You're the one that bought me the necklace."

"For coming with me today, and for agreeing to this crazy scheme of mine." Adaline brushed a bit of hair back behind one ear, and for a moment he could finally see how she and Sarah were sisters. "I honestly thought I'd get here and you'd see your chance to leave and just take it. Or that you would've told me off in the cart and then nothing would've mattered."

"I still owe you an answer for that, don't I?"

"Don't tell me yet, I want to enjoy this just a bit longer," she said, leaning against his arm as they walked along. For a while that's all they did. People paid them little mind, unlike in Nifila or Fahrenn, and Tyr found that comforting somehow. When they stopped, they were staring out at Sol a few meters from the western edge of the city. The whole world was lit up in orange, red, and streams of fading blue; the thick smell of sand in the air had calmed to a light dusting. Loc Lac might never sleep, but it certainly slowed to a crawl the moment Sol went down.

Even there in the dark of the city's night, they stood in silence. Adaline pressed close in her affection, clinging to the warmth he still radiated, and Tyr lost in the comfort he felt. It was only when the Princess began to shiver that either of them remembered where they were and what time it was.

"We need to get you inside. Where's your room?"

"It's umm…" She paused for longer than Tyr thought necessary, but it had been a long day. "It's this way." After she pointed out the direction, Tyr took off his shirt and handed it to Adaline, who flushed in the darkness. "Tyr, you-"

"Take it. You're barely wearing enough to keep you warm on a night back in Nifila, much less the desert." When she opened her mouth to disagree with him again he shook his head. "We'll be where it's warm soon, so don't argue with me. I  _am_  supposed to be guarding you after all." The shirt fell down past her hips, but Tyr still hugged her close to keep them both from freezing on their walk across the city.

Adaline had, naturally, rented herself a luxurious suite, but it was on the western side as opposed to below the city, something he hadn't expected. "I thought they only rented these rooms to hunters...?"

"They do, unless you're a princess with the extra zenny to throw around. I couldn't stand the thought of not sleeping with a view of the stars." She was no longer talking to him though, or at least not at him. Instead, she looked at the fire that kept her room heated throughout despite the large, open windows.

"Well, I suppose I should see what I can do about my own room with a view."

"I… wanted to talk to you about that." Between her pauses she was speaking so rapidly that some of her words blurred together. "Since you were supposed to be guarding me at all times I… thought you could just stay here." When she finished she couldn't meet his gaze. Where had this Adaline come from?

"Adaline… has this all been an act just to get me to sleep in your bed?"

"No," she replied weakly. "But I can see why you would think that. I just never knew how to act around you, Tyr. I've never really known anyone like you at all, and so when I first made my advances I just treated you like I would any other random guy. I was…" She hiccupped, trying to catch her breath as a few tears hit the firelit floor. "I was testing you. I'm sorry."

"And is this another test?" He was confused, and skeptical. "And what are you even testing me for?" Most importantly, he was more than a bit angry. "What do I have to prove to you? Am I just some game for your amusement?"

"Tyr, no. I just wante-"

"What you want,  _Princess_ , is something you'll have to figure out on your own time." He could feel the red rage in his chakra, and wished he had the strength to make any of it real, but he knew better. "When you're ready to be honest with me, come find me."

"I am though! I'm trying to be!" She ran into him, clinging shockingly tight to his chest. "You, Tyr. You're all I want. All I think about and care about." Her voice subsided into a whisper, one so quiet it could only be heard in the stillness of night. "I've never wanted anything so badly in my life but you…"

"I wish I could believe you right now," he said, breaking her grip on him. "But I don't know who you are. And I can't trust a thing you say right now." With more sadness and rage than he'd felt in a long time, Tyr found the chest containing his armor, removed it, and went to find a place he could change on his own.

Adaline cried herself to sleep for the first time in nearly a decade, her head buried in the shirt Tyr had forgotten to take back, and when she woke in the morning Tyr was nowhere to be found.


	10. A New Kind of Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies about this one being late. Got caught up in real life. Halfway through the story now though, and expect another update in the next few days, on schedule.

"You ever hunt a Rathalos before?" Keyns asked, hoping his nervousness wasn't too apparent in his voice. He had never fought a Los before, and he'd heard some terrible things about them.

"More than I can count," the Quiet Vet replied evenly.

"Like, enough to earn the Rathalos title?"

"Heh, enough that I've earned Soul." He had to be lying. Fifty Los? Him? But he said it without so much as a smile. Is that what it took to be a Veteran? No. It couldn't be. He'd met plenty of hunters who'd bragged about their hunts that had proven to just be big talkers. This Quiet Vet was probably the same way, but he didn't really talk like the others did.

"Well, this isn't an ordinary Los."

"I read the post."

"Yeah, but," But he wasn't certain how to finish that sentence. Keyns was still a novice when it came to hunting, and that was part of the reason he'd joined the Adopt-A-Hunter program in the first place. The other part was that he'd wanted to finally be a part of something bigger than himself. To find brothers-in-arms, and sisters-in-arms, he guessed. He'd been waiting in the Guildhall all day for news of a match, growing more and more despondent every time he made eye contact with someone who turned away. By nightfall he'd given up on ever being matched up, thinking that he must have filled out something wrong or that no one wanted him, so he was surprised when Quiet Vet had approached him with Keyns's application in-hand.

The Vet had sure sounded like he was good, but he was scrawnier than Keyns was, and he wasn't exactly a big guy. He also didn't have the chakra of any hunter Keyns had ever seen. Plus, he used a longsword. He'd heard that no one with real skill used that weapon. Not anymore, at least. A hundred years ago, when longsword users first split off from greatswords, then it was common to see a katana strapped to someone's back, but not now. Not among veterans. So, he had few hopes that this Vet had actually been through fifty Los fights.

They were on an airship, headed towards the Eastern Islands. Moga Village had recently come in contact with a so-called "Immortal Los," and they needed it taken care of fast. Of course, it had needed urgent attention for a week now, and the only reason it wasn't done was because that Los kept regaining all its strength somehow. Its tail was even growing back between different attempts, according to the locals. It was insane. Impossible. Keyns figured that it was just a rumor, but in the pit of his stomach he knew it wouldn't have mattered if the Los was immortal or not, it wasn't going to be any easier on his first try.

For Keyns, hunting had been something he'd always wanted to do, but had only recently built up the courage to do so. He'd been more of a gatherer for years, pocketing a few extra items every time he went out until he could afford a full set of Ingot armor. It was perfect for him, because he needed every bit of defense he could, and it hadn't required any monster materials. So, he already looked the part, even if his switchaxe was still woefully underpowered. He'd forgotten about the materials and zenny for that, but after this quest he was certain he'd have what he needed.

The clouds rolling by the airship always seemed so much smaller from the ground, or maybe these were just different clouds. Still, no cloud ever seemed like it could be bigger than an entire airship, and yet there they were. He briefly wondered how powerful cloud-based weapons would be. The Vet and his longsword didn't even seem interested. "I guess you've been on fifty flights too, Quiet Vet?"

"No, this is my first time."

"What? Why don't you get up and look around then? Why not enjoy yourself a bit, huh?" Keyns didn't add that it could've been the last time they both got the chance. It was true that the FRS was good, and they usually got to the scene fast enough to save a hunter, but there had been a few times where wyverns were hungry enough that even an experienced team of hunters couldn't pull a body away fast-enough. Keyns had never seen it happen before, but he'd heard stories. "I heard that sitting still too long before a hunt makes the Desire Sensor angry. Is that true?"

"The Desire Sensor cares about how much I move now? Damn. Well, I'm sorry to muck up your luck, but I'm afraid I've got other things on my mind right now than appeasing the Desire Sensor." The Vet went downstairs, and Keyns shook his head. This wasn't going at all like he'd planned.

The islands were a beautiful place to visit, but Keyns never thought he could live there. They were too mild, first off. All year long there was nothing but sandy beaches and the gentle ocean breeze. But you couldn't enjoy any of it because there were always Ludroths on the beaches, and Lagias in the waves, and then Loses and Ians covering the rest of the island. And that was every single island too. At least in the desert there wasn't a place you felt safer than you were. Even a volcano would've been preferable to the false hope of an island. Still, it could've been worse; he could've lived in some sort of temperate grassland.

The Vet was still being terribly quiet, and hadn't done anything more enthusiastic than setting off into the island at a run initially. Keyns actually had to ask him to calm down, partially because he wasn't nearly used to his armor, but partially because he wasn't in a rush to find the Los. It was something he kind of regretted, because the Vet was just so depressing to walk with.

"So, Quiet Vet, any advice before we find it?"

"Have you ever fought a Rathian before?"

"Well, yeah, but that's different."

"Very different, but also not."

That was terrible advice. "What does that mean?"

"They have the same body shape, and so they're mostly capable of the same kinds of maneuvers, but where an Ian is often focused on using her tail to take down a hunter, the Los is more about his claws. You don't need to worry about any of the triple fireball volleys that you do with Ian, but because the Los loves to be in the air, it presents its own challenges when it comes to fire. Then there's the whole issue with Los being more aggressive than the Ian, as a general rule."

"That's… a lot to remember."

"Right, sorry." The Quiet Vet looked up at the sky. "Believe it or not, I've never actually taught someone how to hunt while out in the field. It's all just been theory and training dummies."

"Oh." He was trying to be positive, but this wasn't looking good for him. How did they ever let a veteran in who hadn't taught in the field?

"How about we try this a different way," Quiet Vet said. "Do you have any specific questions I can answer?"

Keyns wanted to ask him how he'd ever gotten into the program, but that didn't seem like it would help him much with the Los at this point. "So, how do we get it out of the air then? Mount it?"

"If you'd like to, yeah. It's quicker to use a flash bomb though. You get one in front of them and the Los comes crashing to the ground without fail."

"Okay, that's good to know. But I didn't bring any flashbombs."

"Have one of mine. You don't need to use it, but if you see an opening, then go for it."

"Hey, thanks," Keyns said as he scribbled down the exchange on his item list. "Umm… how do I use it, exactly? Just throw it?"

The Vet actually smiled a little, but he wasn't laughing like Keyns had expected. "You crush it. Like so." With a motion that the Vet must have done a thousand times before, he whipped out another flashbomb, crushed it in his fist, and counted. On three there was a burst of light that shot out from between his fingers. "Now, normally you want to crush it, count to one, and then throw. So long as you feel the bomb material break, the bug inside is as good as dead, so don't worry about not having squeezed hard enough, okay?"

"Right. Got it."

The Vet pulled out another flash and demonstrated the actual technique. It was such a fluid motion. No hesitation at all. "You try."

"But I only have one."

"I've got the material for more, and there are always flashbugs around. Go ahead."

Keyns's own attempt wasn't nearly as smooth, but he crushed, counted to one, and then threw. The bomb went off half a second before the Vet's had, but Keyns didn't care. "That was awesome!"

"Yeah, it was." He didn't sound very excited, but Keyns couldn't blame him. It was just a flashbomb. So, as Quiet Vet took out the materials to combine more flashbugs and, oddly, a book bound in a golden cover, Keyns said the first thing that came to his mind.

"Do you got a girl back home?"

"No."

When there was no elaboration, Keyns decided to press the matter a little. "Me neither, but I don't see why I should need one anyways."

"They're the best part of life."

"What? Why don't you have one if you think like that?"

"Because for one, you can't own a person, and because…" He trailed off, looking sad again. "Because it's hard to find the perfect woman. Harder than any hunt has ever been."

"Yeah. Sorry, I didn't mean to say that they we-"

The roar sent Keyns ducking for cover instead of finishing his thoughts. How had the Los snuck up on them? And was his vet charging in already? "You're gonna get yourself killed!" Sure enough, the fireball came barreling down the tunnel formed by the high walls around the stream they'd been following, but the Vet just slid beneath it on his back and kept right on going. Keyns hadn't ever seen someone do that before. Apparently, the Los hadn't either because his partner caught him with a blow that would've knocked the head clean off a Jaggi. Maybe he  _had_  killed fifty Los.

Not one to be carried through a quest, Keyns charged forward, drawing out his switchaxe just as the Los whipped itself around. The spiked tail caught him right in his side, mid-swing, and sent him into the wall, but he was back on his feet in no time. His Ingot armor was a match for anything the Los could throw at him, except for fire. Still, enough hits and it'd take down anyone.

His Vet was like air. When the Los tried to take a bite of him, he fade slashed in the same direction to keep his positioning. "Don't ever stay still with the Los," he shouted as he ducked beneath a tail swipe and rose with a strike into the wing. "And be prepared for the roar soon. He's going to fireball and leap into the air when he does, and you don't want to get caught in that."

Keyns was trying to process as he slashed at the Los, but it was hard to focus on two things at once. He was going to give it his all though.

"You've got a good reach," Quiet Vet continued as he hacked off a scale from the Los's neck. "Try staying behind him for the tail. Like I said, he doesn't use it as much as the Ian. I'll distract him as much as I can from the front."

That was advice that he could use. Keyns rolled beneath the wing in his face and brought his axe up into the soft flesh of the tail. Then back down in an arcing slash. Then up. And down. The roar caught him a bit off guard, and his Vet too, because the fireball slammed into quiet Vet's face while he was stunned, and suddenly the Los was in the air. Each wingbeat pushed out an incredible amount of force, but the weight of his Ingot armor mixed with his chakra to keep Keyns from feeling it.

The Los was looking straight at him now, flames dripping from its mouth.

"FLASHBOMB!" the Vet shouted, and just as Keyns went to put away his weapon he saw the tiny ball come sailing over his shoulder. He closed his eyes just before the flash went off, and he felt the thud of the Los as it came crashing back into the ground.

"What are we waiting for?" His Vet said as he charged past Keyns. "Come on, free hits while he's down!"

"Coming!" Keyns shouted and he rushed forwards, back towards the tail where he'd been told to go. Up. And down. Up, and down.

"Not to say you're not doing a great job," his Vet said as the Los staggered back to its feet, still blinded, but not about to take any more punishment laying down. "But when he's down like that you could probably afford to go into Sword Mode."

"Oh, yeah," Keyns said. "I uhh…". He had never actually used the Sword Mode before. He'd heard it slowed you down, and he already felt really slow. He swallowed hard as he finished another up and down. "Is it okay if I don't? I'm not very good with Sword Mode yet."

"It's fine, but you might want to give it a try when he's down again. Can't get better without trying."

Keyns swung up again, feeling a bit more confident, and that was when he took the fireball to the chest. His armor felt like it was on fire, and some of it was. The heat had nowhere to go, no vents because the armor had been designed to protect from hits, not from flames. He choked on his own smoke. "ROLL!" His Vet shouted. "Into the stream! ROLL!"

Pushing through the pain, Keyns rolled instead of going for the potion in his pouch. He felt like he was going to die, but the roll pushed out some of the heated air through cracks it normally couldn't escape from. A second roll and he was in the stream, the fires doused immediately. The water rushed into his suit, which made him feel a little squishy, but he wasn't going to die from feeling squishy.

But the Los was no longer blind, and the smoke trailing out of its mouth wasn't a good sign. It was even angrier that it had been before. Keyns dove for a small cave, and rolled inside a good ten meters before he stopped. From here, he could still see the Los, but he was safe from its raging attacks. Safe enough to heal. As he finished off his second potion he watched the Los swooping in at Quiet Vet, who leapt around the attack with ease. The Los shot a blast of fire down, but his Vet spiraled backwards and then countered with a slash across the wyvern's extended face. He was so good. He could've taken the Los down by himself. So why was Keyns even there?

"Hey, Wyvernslayer!" Keyns blinked at the title. He'd chosen it because he thought that if he had a cool title that he'd be more respected as a hunter. It sounded like a such a lie being said by a real wyvernslayer though. "Come on! I can't get this tail off of him myself!"

Whoever this veteran was, however lacking he may have been in size and no matter the weapon he used, he didn't need Keyns. But hearing him saying it, just the words, they were as much of a truth as his title was a lie. Keyns took a breath, grit his teeth, and ran back out with the flashbomb in his hand. He crushed it. "ONE!" he shouted. And the shout attracted the Los' attention. He swallowed hard, chucked the flashbomb, and prayed. On three the bomb detonated, and the King of the Skies screeched, but didn't immediately fall. He was still in the middle of his dive towards Keyns. But without his sight he misjudged where everything else was and toppled over himself.

"Nice one!"

As his Vet ran to help, Keyns decided he wasn't going to let fear hold him back anymore. He pulled down on the triggering mechanism that slid his axe's blade down before locking the outer edge into place on the same side. Sword Mode wasn't actually any heavier than the Axe Mode, but the center of gravity had shifted, so he had to stand differently if he didn't want to fall over.

He took a swing at the Los, and was surprised at how easy it was to pull the weight of the blade back into a second swing, and then a third. In fact, the Sword Mode was not just easier to swing, but he could feel the power behind each hit as he tore into the tail again and again. He laughed without meaning to, the rush of his blood making his fingers tingle.

By the time the Los came back to its feet, Keyns felt he was ready for anything. His blade glowed a bright and fearsome blue from the overcharged phials brimming with chakric energy and heat. "Come get some!" he shouted as he thrust his sword upwards into the tail and twisted the handle. The phials began to pour out onto the blade, sending damaging bursts of chakric energy into his enemy. The Los tried to charge away, but the hot blade had embedded itself and wouldn't let go, so Keyns was dragged along with it. He didn't let go, didn't dare let go, even as the energy built up and up until the last of the phials burst into an explosion that tore half the wyvern's tail off.

Blinded and bleeding fiercely, the Los did its best to limp towards safety, but it had no idea where safety could possibly be. Both hunters charged forwards, and Keyns swore that out of the corner of his eye he could see his Vet's chakra slide slowly down his blade until it glowed the faintest white Keyns had ever seen. Then his Vet whipped himself around in a lightning-fast arc and tore through the wyvern's leg with his Spirit Roundslash, toppling the monster again. He had no idea what an accomplishment that small act was, because he was too focused on going for the finishing blow. He swung his Axe from side to side, back and forth now instead of just up and down, hacking until the Los was no longer moving.

Exhausted, Keyns took a few moments to recover his breath, and when he looked over his Vet was panting on the ground a few meters away. When had he stopped attacking? Why was he so tired?

Keyns had done it though, he'd taken down a Los.

The Vet grinned between each labored breath and looked at his Novice. "So…" There was a moment where he knew what the other man was about to say, but he wanted to hear it anyways. He didn't know quite how he knew, but he knew. "It looks like you live up to that title of yours."

Keyns tried his best to be modest, but he didn't feel modest. He felt alive. No words would come out of his mouth.

"And just so we're clear, My name's Tyr. And that was the sixtieth Los I've had to kill in my life."

"That was insane!" Keyns shouted as they boarded the airship home. He'd only shouted the same thing a dozen times now. "How in the… I mean that was my first, but you were… I mean wow!" The eyes of the crew all shot to them, and Tyr acutely recalled how it felt to live in Nifila, but not for the reasons he wanted. "Hey, you all can keep staring. We took down a Los!"

"What makes me think it was mostly him?" a Crewman asked with a smug grin.

"It wasn't," Tyr said.

"Really now? Well, paint me yellow and call me a Ludroth," Smug Crewman said.

Keyns sneered at them beneath his helmet, and Tyr just shook his head. Let the others have their fun; he was finally getting his strength back. That's also when he collapsed onto the deck. His feet had gotten him as far as they could, but even after the rest he'd had on the way back the energy he'd spent in that one channeling had been too much.

Everyone stopped to see what was wrong, but when Tyr began laughing like an animal they mostly stopped. "Is there a joke I missed?" Keyns asked.

Tyr tried to respond, did his best to come up with the breath to make words, but he could do nothing but clutch his sides as he laughed and guffawed through his exhaustion. Many rolled their eyes, or chuckled themselves, but all of them were convinced that Tyr had a screw or two loose. Everyone except Keyns, who started laughing with him. After ten minutes or so, they calmed down enough to have a normal conversation. "Oh gods, I can't get up."

"Oh, man, that's not good." Keyns wiped a tear from his eye. "But we made a hell of a team, no?"

"Nope," Tyr laughed, and laughed a bit harder when he saw Keyns's face. "I'm just kidding. You were great."

"We should team up more often," he said. "We'd be unstoppable."

"I'm not from around here," he said with a giggle. "So that won't be very likely."

"Well, maybe I'll come with you. I mean, we're already part of the same program, right? Doesn't matter where we go."

"I don't think that Ad…" And then he stopped laughing altogether. "Well, I don't really think the Princess needs another guard."

"Holy Volganos! You're a royal guard? No wonder you're so good. But I thought the princess wasn't coming until… tomorrow? Or later today. I dunno. That quest still has me so hyped that I can't think straight."

"No, I'm a guard for the other princess. Her sister." He sat up, and found it was a lot harder than he remembered it being. "She's… she's not who she seems to be."

Keyns shrugged and sat down next to Tyr. "Neither were you. But, I mean, that's not a bad thing."

"I didn't lie to you about who I am."

"Yeah. But that doesn't mean there weren't lies between us."

"I'm afraid I don't follow your logic."

"I mean, I had fooled myself into thinking you were someone you weren't." Keyns smiled, and Tyr found himself even more confused.

"When was that?"

"Before the flashbomb thing. I told myself all kinds of things about you based on stuff I'd heard, but that didn't make them true. Everything you said or did til then fit into what I wanted to believe about you, so I just figured I was right. But I wasn't. I was lying to myself about you."

"You're," Tyr stopped himself and shook his head. "I think you're smarter than I am. And I think you're gonna make a great hunter." Keyns gave Tyr a hard look, but he wasn't kidding. They laughed and talked the whole way back.

Back in the city, everyone was celebrating, and both hunters knew it wasn't for them. They collected their bounty, had materials sent to their boxes, and went to see what all the fuss was about. Naturally, it was Prince Kean, just having returned to the city with his new bride. Tyr and Keyns couldn't get within a dozen meters of the actual procession, but with all of the people shouting "Prince! Prince!" it wasn't that hard to figure it all out.

"You say you're a royal guard, right? You think you can get me in to meet the Prince?"

"I have no idea. I'm not certain how much authority being a guard gets me here." Tyr chuckled, just to do it. It felt nice to laugh again, too nice to let it go. "But I might be let in since I know the princesses."

"That would be so amazing," Keyns said, trying to see over the crowd.

"Yeah, but I don't think it's going to happen today. Too many people in our way." Tyr began walking in the opposite direction of the crowd, and Keyns only joined him after a few more moments of craning his neck.

"So, why did you join Adopt-A-Hunter?"

"To make up for something I did."

"That sounds personal. Do you mind if I ask what happened?"

"I was her hero, and I told her I couldn't help her anymore. We hadn't even gone on a quest together…" Tyr sighed. "I wasn't there when it happened, but I killed her all the same."

"That's…" Keyns had many adjectives for it, but none of them really fit. "I'm sorry."

"Me too."

"Well, how about something happier? How'd you get into hunting?"

The streets of Loc Lac were deserted. Stalls abandoned, houses with no sounds coming from inside. Empty except for the occasional passerby and the pair of hunters. "This one night, I was walking through town. It was a lot like this, because in Nifila everything stops after solset. And I decided to go up to the watchtower and see what was going on there." Tyr's voice didn't echo against the emptiness of Loc Lac, and he didn't like that. When empty places didn't echo it meant they weren't actually empty.

"When I got up there I talked for a little bit with Ehrin, and then just before I went down I spotted a Rathian in the distance. I'd never seen a live one before. She was beautiful. She wasn't anything like the stories. She wasn't vicious, or cruel, or angry, she was just… just out there. Alive." He smiled just a little bit. "And the next day I bought myself a weapon and started training."

"Hold on," Keyns said. "I missed something there."

Tyr gave a small laugh at that. "I didn't want to kill her." There was a small pendant in his hand that Keyns hadn't noticed before. He held it up, the machalite gleaming in the sollight. "But I wanted to be like her. I didn't want to have to run from wyverns like a researcher, or stand back like a handler. I wanted to be able to just walk through the world like she did, at peace with it. And the only way to do that was to be a Hunter."

Keyns felt a little small in his own reasons. He hadn't wanted to be a hunter to be at one with the world or anything. "I've always been afraid of wyverns," he said. "And I just didn't want to be afraid. I wanted to be somebody. I wanted to help people like me not be afraid anymore. Because, you know, if I can do it, then anyone can. Right?"

"I guess so, yeah."

Keyns didn't like the way Tyr was looking. He was getting depressed again. "Hey uh, Quiet Vet, is that why you're here then? You came out to see the world, like the Rathian?"

"No." He looked around, but Keyns wasn't certain what he was looking for. "No, if it were up to me I'd have never left home."

"But you said…"

"I know what I said. But things change." They were crossing the barrier between the two sides of the city, and the East was no more populated than the West. "One day I was out on a hunt, a Velocidrome. Nothing more than a routine hunt, until a Los came barreling in and nearly tore me in half with the first blow. I didn't know what I was supposed to do, but I hadn't finished my hunt yet, so I kept at it. I carted twice, nearly ran out of daylight, and I'd completely lost the Velocidrome, but I kept at the Los until I finally took it down. I never did see that Drome again, but when I got home I was a hero for taking down the King of the Skies. People started coming to me for everything and…" He shrugged, but he couldn't hide the smile on his face. "And that was it. If it weren't for the Guild I'd still be there."

Keyns was about to open his mouth to say something, but there was a voice that said something before he could. "Hi," the word was so soft in the air that he almost didn't hear it. When Keyns turned around, there was a stunning woman standing there. She was in a blood red dress, standing with her hands behind her back, as though she couldn't bear to have someone see them. Her hair was shockingly blue as well, making her tanned face and arms seem all the more out of place.

"Adaline," Tyr said, and Keyns' eyes snapped back and forth between the two. "You… you look lovely."

"Thank you." The quiet of two people with too much to say crept in. Keyns knew that silence, and so he did the only thing he could do.

"I'll meet up with you later," he said, though he wasn't certain that Tyr heard him. He wasn't certain he would have heard himself with a woman like that talking to him.

A moment turned into two, and then three, so he said the first thing that came to mind.

"You decided to skip the party, huh?"

"They don't really need me there, and I'm certain Kean doesn't want me there either."

"That's his loss." Another moment of silence slipped in. It made his chest ache. "I killed a Los with someone today. Saved a village in doing so too."

"That sounds like something you would do. Did you enjoy yourself?"

"I finally channeled my chakra to my katana again. It felt incredible."

"I'm so glad to hear that, Tyr."

"I didn't know how to feel about it at first. In some ways, I guess I still don't, but I started laughing when I thought about it. And then I kept laughing because it just felt so damned good and I knew that there was no one who would understand why."

"I understand, Tyr."

"No, you don't." Now, a new silence, one pregnant with a change in mood that they could both feel, but that couldn't be realized without words. "No one does, and I hope like hell that no one ever will. But I knew that you were the first person I was going to tell when I got back."

Her face lit up gradually with her smile, and she closed the last foot between them so that she could rest on his arm again, but she fell against his chest instead. Surprised, she looked to him for answers as his arms slid around her waist. "You asked me to tell you why I wanted Sarah instead of you. But I don't. She's a lovely person, but I realized I was just lying to myself about her. I don't know her. And I don't know you either, apparently, but I want to change that. I want to get to know you. So we can date, or be friends, or just spend every day together. Just promise me you'll be you. No more tests, okay? Because I don't want to be without you again."

If she'd been happy about him agreeing to one date, Adaline couldn't name the feeling she felt at that moment. It took every ounce of willpower she could muster to move slowly, to savor each second as she inched her lips up to his. When they touched she forgot about everything. She let go of the regret and the fear of the last twenty-four hours, of the comfort she so often had to take in teasing others, and of the sadness that took hold of her when she was alone. She let go of happiness, because it meant nothing. She let go of anger, because she couldn't find any. And she let go of caring entirely, because she was no longer the Adaline anyone knew. Most importantly to her, she let go of all the lies she'd ever told, and when the kiss ended she didn't bother trying to get any of it back. "I promise," she whispered against his lips. "I promise. I promise. I promise."


	11. Blood and Sand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was at birthday party all yesterday (mine) with my new pupper, so this is coming a day late. But, here's the chapter I promised.
> 
> Enjoy! Or don't.
> 
> Or do...

Tyr and Adaline spent every moment of the next few days together. Adaline insisted that she wasn’t going to let him run away again, and Tyr didn’t mind sharing a bed during the cold of the desert nights. Meanwhile, Hammer Maiden and Guard of Death had gone out hunting, and returned just as the sand started to violently whirl around the city.

“What do you suppose is going on?” Hammer Maiden asked Guard of Death as they stepped off the boat, a Lagia Sapphire in her hand.

“Don’t know,” he replied. “But it’s big.” The Guild Outpost was much more crowded than usual, filled with anxious chatter and nervous hunters.

The Guildie in charge, dressed in official black, addressed the crowd. “Everyone! Everyone, please, calm down! We need to organize if this threat is going to be handled efficiently.” While most of the crowd did quiet, there were still a few voices which would not be silenced.

“How you expect to efficiently handle a Jhen Mohran?”

“It has been done before,” the Guildie reminded them. “It will be done again.”

“Last time we had Gunhammer Azusa! Who’s supposed to lead the team this time?”

“I will,” Kean replied as he made his way through the crowd. “It’s my city and I’ll defend it like I did when Azusa was here.” He stopped at the quest board, ripping the giant posting off only to hold it higher. “Are there any amongst you that will answer the call of your city?”

Plenty of silence answered him, silence buried beneath flying sands.

“Must I fight this threat alone?” Although no one in the city could say that they wanted him to go alone, there were hardly any that thought they had the skill to fight something like the Jhen and live. And fewer who were allowed to go. Princes came and went, but this was the only life they had to live.

Kean had never been so alone. He stood at the desk with no support in the entire city, not even from those hunters he would’ve considered the bravest. But just as he began to despair, two men stepped forward. One was wearing shining Ingot armor, dulled by the abundance of swirling sand, and the other was dressed in sleek black, a pair of serrated daggers at his side. “Climbing Captain, wasn’t it? Won’t it be your duty to protect the princess when she travels back home?

“That’s why I don’t plan on dying, Prince of Loc Lac.” Orion gave the man a grin he wasn’t feeling as he signed his name to the sheet, followed shortly by Keyns.

“And I don’t believe we’ve had the chance to meet,” Kean said, holding out his hand to the young hunter.

“Oh, right, umm,” Keyns began before he swallowed hard. “I’m pleased to finally meet you, Prince of Loc Lac. I’m the Tail Guy”

“Welcome aboard, Tail Guy. It’s a pleasure to have you with us. Is there anyone else?”

Hammer Maiden and Guard of Death approached Orion, one of them displeased and the other intrigued. “I thought we were disbarred from such a hunt,” Hammer Maiden said.

“ _You_  are,” Orion replied firmly. “I never said I was.”

“Your double standards do not serve you well, Captain.”

“But my sergeants do and will. Enjoy your time off, both of you. That is an order.”

“Who’s to say we would not enjoy this quest?”

“Do you know what a Jhen Mohran is, Hammer Maiden? Guard of Death?” Their looks did not betray their ignorance, but their muteness did.

“It’s a dragon with tusks the size of a Diablos and a mouth big enough to swallow a team of hunters whole. If it smashes into the ship while you’re on it, you’d better hope you weren’t beneath anything or they’d be trying to peel you off the deck for a week. And if that wasn’t bad enough,” he paused, making certain they understood the gravity of each word. “If you don’t know how to listen to an order when it’s given to you, it will reach this city, thousands of people will die, and so will you.”

Guard of Death and Hammer Maiden had both been given lectures before, even been yelled at, but Orion didn’t do so much as raise his voice. He was firm, quiet, and if words could be blades then his were sharper and hit harder than any greatsword. Hammer Maiden actually flushed with embarrassment, and Guard of Death grunted in his shame. “So both of you can get out of my sight and enjoy your damned vacation.”

“Captain,” Kean shouted, grabbing Orion’s attention. “Would any of your guards like to come along? It seems there are no brave hunters left in my city.”

“I just finished telling them not to come,” Orion shouted back. “They are Fahrenn’s Guards, not Loc Lac’s.”

“They will not see Fahrenn again if the Jhen isn’t repelled.”

He had a point, but when Orion turned to look back at his sergeants, they were conveniently gone. He sighed, going over the list of people remaining in his group that he hadn’t scared into submission, or who wouldn’t have psyched themselves out. “Someone get me Blank Blade!” he hollered.

As if on cue, Tyr stepped out of the crowd, his arm wrapped around Orion’s charge. She had gone back her natural blue hair, apparently, and had her face pressed against Tyr’s chest to shield her eyes from the dust. There was some small piece of jewelry around her neck that looked new. At least Tyr still had his katana on his back so that he could protect her, even if he had removed his armor. “You willing to save the city, Blank?”

“Are you sure I’m the right person to ask? I can’t even fully channel my chakra still.”

“Blank Blade,” Kean said. “The Jhen wouldn’t notice even if you could.”

The ship rocked and lurched as they traveled through the storm towards its eye where the Jhen Mohran would be waiting for them. Orion’s stomach churned with the ship, but he was doing an incredible job with keeping his lunch in his stomach. “Not natural…” he mumbled. “This whole damn thing.”

“Cheer up, Captain!” Keyns clapped him on the shoulder. “You got Blank and the Prince here. They’re so good we might not even get a chance if they don’t slow down, you know?”

“If the… hrrk… Jhen doesn’t kill us… you’re… first on my list.” Orion stumbled further below deck, where he could hopefully recover in the darkness. Keyns, meanwhile, went to check on Kean and Tyr. He found them in the forward cabin, where both sat quietly a few feet from each other, not making eye contact.

“You two getting psyched up for the fight or something?”

“Something, yeah,” Tyr said. “Is anything wrong?”

“Just trying to figure out how you guys do it is all.”

“Do what, precisely?” Kean asked.

“How you guys are so good at hunting. I mean, everyone’s heard the stories about you, Prince of Loc Lac. You’re incredible. And then I saw with my own two eyes how awesome Blank was when we took down that Los.”

“You killed a Rathalos, Blank Blade? I am impressed that you could do so at your level. How many were with you?”

“Just me,” Keyns answered before he realized he had just spoken over Tyr. “But he made the quest a lot easier than I expected.”

“You must have done an incredible amount of work then,” Kean replied. “I understand that Blank Blade has lost his ability to channel his chakra.”

“He what?!” Keyns exclaimed. “And yet you still… by the Fata!”

Tyr shook his head. “There’s no need to get excited. A hunt isn’t about channeling chakra and-“

“That’s why you looked so glum and stuff, right? You’ve got like a... a no spirit thing because you can’t channel?” He was getting more excited the more he spoke. “But… you’re still so good! So, you were probably some sort of Legend before whatever happened, right? Are you the Sword Saint? I hear you scared a Lao away just by looking at it.”

“I’m not the Sword Saint,” Tyr replied with a shake of his head. “Although I think I met him once.”

“And he taught you all your cool moves, right?”

“No,” Tyr could’ve smiled, but it wasn’t a memory that made him happy. “He told me ‘It is not the shaking of hands or the racing of hearts, but the dark of mind you must conquer. The earth shakes at every roar, the winds race beneath beating wings, but darkness only blinds those who close their eyes.”

“Man… I have no idea what that means, but I’m certain that it’s something really deep.”

“It sounds like a very clever way of saying nothing at all,” Kean said.

No one responded to that. Silence was hardly an issue with the hurricane winds and the sound of sand pelting their boat at every instant of every hour. Still, Keyns wasn’t certain how to take Kean’s comment, and Tyr didn’t feel like commenting on it. Luckily for both of them, the storm had just stopped.

“To arms!” Kean called, rushing for the supplies the moment he noticed. The others followed, albeit not as quickly. “I’ll man the boat’s defenses, you all just worry about doing as you’re told.”

Orion stumbled back up the stairs and began gathering things himself. Everyone collected shots for the ballistae and as many healing items as they could carry. It would be a bad idea to have anyone going back below deck during the fight because they didn’t stock up. The Jhen was going to require their utmost attention.

Hitting the deck in record time given that only one of them had ever done battle on a ship before, Orion and Kean grabbed control of the ballistae first, and the moment the Jhen was in range they fired volleys of meter-long spears into the beast. At first, it seemed the Jhen didn’t notice their attacks. It kept on swimming through the sand, a mobile mountain of rock and sandblasted hide. When it finally turned its attention to the boat and Tyr could finally appreciate how massive the dragon really was, he shivered. Not only were the rumors of the Jhen true, but they actually fell short of the mark.

It was incredible to think that the Sea of Sand was deep enough for it to fully submerge itself, but the behemoth dove as it came for them, vanishing beneath the waves. Twin tusks, almost a fourth the length of its body, launched sand hundreds of feet into the air when the Jhen resurfaced, but more than sand fell back to the boat. Delex, half a dozen of them, suddenly littered the deck, and it was Tyr and Keyns’s job to get them back off of it. The task was easy enough under normal circumstances, but the ravenous sandfish were only a seasoning to the plate of danger the Jhen presented.

While Keyns blasted another of the Delex back into the sea, and Tyr cut down his third, the Jhen surfaced less than a hundred meters away, blocking out the horizon. “Switch!” Kean called, rushing to Orion’s ballista just as Orion slipped away from it. Kean twisted the firing mechanisms, pulled them back half a foot, and then squeezed the triggers. “Binders!” he cried. A series of cabled harpoons simultaneously shot out from evenly spaced holes across the port side and from the other two ships. The warship turned sharply, yanking on the cables roughly to tear out hunks of flesh and muscle. It stopped the Jhen’s advance, but it also focused the Jhen solely on their ship. It was best this way, and they all had to keep telling themselves that.

Turning as fast as possible, the warship headed for the nearest shoreline, nearly an hour away. Getting the Jhen as far from the city as possible was one thing, but making certain it couldn’t get back was another. Kean and Orion continued launching shot after shot; Tyr and Keyns gathered additional shots, handing them off to the gunners whenever they ran low, and beating back Delex that got too close. Even moving as fast as they did, the Jhen caught up with them, its massive body dwarfing their forty-meter ship with ease. That’s when it rammed against them.

Tyr was flung halfway across the ship, and the only reason Keyns didn’t do the same was because of his recent decoration improvements. The ship was weighted heavily in the lowest decks to keep it from capsizing, but the way the ship rocked one could barely tell. They continued to fire, but now it was the non-gunners’ turn to do some damage. At the rear of the boat was a large pile of cannonballs, roped down to keep them in place in all the fighting. They grabbed a single, heavy shot each, and loaded them into a cannon, firing them off as quickly as the cannons would allow. The explosions blasted chunks of sand and scales off the frightfully powerful dragon, and it bellowed its rage.

“Move!” Kean called as the Jhen came barreling towards them again. Tyr barely had time to react as the incredible tusks swept up the deck, nearly cracking the reinforced mast, and sending a dozen cannonballs flying off into the sand. He leapt, foolishly, towards the front of the ship and was hit harder than a Rhennox at full charge. It felt like his body snapped in half, like his midsection was simply ripped out and he was just a set of limbs sailing through the air. When the sand broke his fall, the jolt shocked his crushed ribs back into reality, and he was consumed by blackness.

“Keep fighting,” Kean ordered Keyns, who was gaping in horror. “The crew will pull him back in.” He’d seen the anchoring rope as it was shot around Tyr’s waist midair, but he still couldn’t move. It was impossible to think that Tyr could be taken out so easily, especially after the way he’d conquered that Los. “Tail Guy!” his Prince shouted, breaking all other thoughts. “If you don’t move,  _you_  are going to be next.” So, while a team of sailors helped pull Tyr in, the other three worked faster and harder to make up for their fallen comrade.

Tyr wasn’t out for very long, in the crew were three Guild medics who, just like the Felyne Rescue Squad, got Tyr back to full hunting condition in a matter of minutes. He barely had time to open his eyes as they pulled him out of bed and strapped his armor back on for him. It’d been a long, long time since Tyr had needed Guild medics, and he’d forgotten how fast the healing process could be when his chakra wasn’t entirely gone. They never said a word, never bothered to encourage a hunter to get back into the fight, even though Tyr felt like he could use it this time. He waited for a signal from above, and when he heard Kean yell out “Now!” he rushed back onboard and set back to work.

There was a methodical nature to the fight, even though every second Tyr’s pulse pounded and Keyns strained to keep his stamina up. They grabbed supplies, they made certain the gunners were stocked, and they switched to cannon fire if the beast got within the set line of fire and the incredibly short range. Orion and Kean fired ballista shots as though they’d never exhaust their supply, and the hope was they wouldn’t. As Keyns fired off what seemed like his fiftieth cannon shot, it smashed into the Jhen’s tusk and the crack Tyr had thought was just superficial widened with frightening speed. The tusk itself dropped into the sand like a stone, and bone fragments showered the deck, some of them as large as man’s head.

Keyns pointed and shouted something, even as the Jhen’s near-deafening roar shook the entire warboat. The group froze, their bones rattling, except for Kean who kept right on firing. High Grade Earplugs, that was an armor skill the rest of them wished they’d invested in. Then again, none of them had the time or the materials except Orion, and he’d been content without it. As they were recovering, the ship’s captain shouted something none of them could hear with their ringing ears.

They crashed.

Everyone reached for whatever they could to keep from being thrown too far, but the impact was too sudden. The Jhen, hardly more prepared for it than the crew, rolled with earthshaking force onto the beach nearly indistinguishable from the rest of the sea. Orion had to keep himself rolling to avoid the mast, which had snapped and careened down into the sand. A hard gong, one that normally was used to stun the Jhen, rang out as the mast crashed through the space he’d been a moment before. In the distance, lying supine on the desert beach, the once fearsome dragon seemed almost harmless. Its giant flat legs flapped uselessly as the hunters checked on supplies and the status of their only useful weapons. The boat wasn’t going to sail again, but the ballistae worked, and the cannons did too. Or at least the ones pointing towards the Jhen did, thank Poogie.

No sooner had they finished checking all this than the Jhen was righted. They waited for it to decide on what to do, and when its simple, rage-filled brain recognized the wreckage of its attacker, they had their answer. “Fire at will!” Kean ordered, as the behemoth lumbered towards them. Again, an endless volley of streamlined lances rained down on then Jhen as though there weren’t already hundreds in his hide. It bled a magnificent red, leaving a trail of gooped-up sand as it inched towards the boat with only one purpose in mind.

“My Prince!” a man shouted from belowdecks. “The Dragonator! It’s jammed!”

“What the hell do you mean?” Kean practically roared. “If that thing gets alongside us we’ll all be dead!”

“We’re working on it, my Prince; we’ll let you know as soon as it’s fixed.”

Last time, there hadn’t been this much trouble. Azusa had actually found her way onto the massive creature. She’d smashed holes in the Jhen that he could still see, and whenever it got too close, the explosive impact from her hammer had very nearly been powerful enough to knock the Jhen away. He had managed to convince himself that this time the Jhen was angrier, or that it had somehow been tired before, but who could know such things when it came to an Elder Dragon? They desperately loaded, fired, and reloaded, hoping that the lumbering mountain would fall, or decide to retreat. It seemed like both an eternity and no time at all before it was right up against the ship.

This close, one could see the scars from previous battles, and the old ballista shots that were still too stubborn to let go. The thick gouges from their battle dripped the darkest drops of crimson blood any of them had ever seen onto the deck. They splashed everything, and the gigantic tusk above them could’ve stretched across more than two of their decks put side by side. Opening its giant mouth, the Jhen sucked in all the warmth from the air as it reared up for a brutal finish.

“It’s ready!” someone shouted. A distant voice that echoed off the ballooning dragon. Kean raced up the steps to the head of the ship and leapt onto the triggering mechanism for the Dragonator.

A pair of massive drills launched with the power of a gunshot at the beast’s soft stomach. The points whirled against what should have been a tender underbelly - coated in sand and smeared blood - for a few moments, and slowed dangerously as the Jhen Mohran pressed up against them. Kean watched in horror as the drills stopped and the elder dragon came down for the kill. He prayed to the gods to save his family and his city, his new wife, and even his new sister There was nothing to keep him alive now, and so he also prayed that his death would be sudden.

The drills bent, cracked, and then punctured through. Twin streams of air and blood flowed freely out of the quickly deflating Jhen. Its last full tusk slammed into the ground, splintered at the base and fell to the deck where Keyns had to dive out of the way. Unable to retract, the Dragonator’s drills held the folded beast aloft. Maybe it was Kean who was the first to laugh, or it might’ve been Orion. It didn’t matter who started though, because in moments the entire crew of the warship was laughing, shouting, and crying like they’d never done so before.


	12. How to Settle Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, sorry about the delays again, but life just got more hectic than I'd planned. So, today the last 9 chapters all come out. Because they're ready and because release schedules are for people without memory issues, like myself. Enjoy it til the end if you've been enjoying it thus far.

“So, Tyr,” Molin started in that way he often did. “Tell us again how you all managed to kill the Jhen.”

“Wouldn’t you rather hear it from Orion?”

“We all know the Captain exaggerates his stories,” Jaruk replied, and even Orion agreed with a hearty chuckle.

“To be honest, it was just a matter of working together. A bit of coordination and luck and Kean’s experience saw us through.”

“Boy, if Orion oversells it then you definitely undersell it by just as much,” Oliarta said. “Come on, we want a story.”

Tyr looked down at Adaline imploringly, but she was on their side.

“Please?” she asked.

“Alright, well, the only other hunt I went on was just for a Los that was terrorizing Moga.” He pulled Adaline in as he stared into the campfire. “If the posting I read was true at all, the Los healed at an incredibly rapid rate, although it didn’t seem like fighting him took much longer than I would have expected. Still, they had called it ‘The Immortal Los.’”

“This was the one you killed with that Tail Guy, yes?” Dervish Guard asked. “What do you think was going on with that one?”

“It was probably just inexperienced hunters,” Hammer Maiden said, and Tyr was inclined to agree. “They didn’t realize how little damage they were doing, and so it seemed as though the wyvern healed faster than it actually did.”

“But, what if it wasn’t that?” Dervish Guard continued, apparently on another of her theories.

“You mean, what if the Los really was immortal and it was just waiting for our Tyr to come and kill it?” Oliarta said. “That really would make for an interesting story.”

“My Tyr,” Adaline corrected, but gently.

“What I mean,” Dervish Guard said thoughtfully. “Is that there might’ve been something that did speed up the healing process. Maybe he found a stash of potions that he gulped down after fights, or perhaps someone was taking care of it, like I do with Feora.”

“Like some sort of pet?” Orion asked. “Who in the world would want a beast like that as a companion?”

“I would not object,” Hammer Maiden offered. “But only if it were trained in restraint, which it did not sound as though this Rathalos was.”

“I dunno, I think it’d be pretty cool,” said Molin. “You could go flying everywhere and hunting down other monsters would be a lot easier.”

“There’s no point in that kind of thinking,” Tyr said.

“They’re monsters, not endemics,” Adaline added. “Their place in the order of the world isn’t something that’s going to change, and I’d rather you all not dream of something that would still your blades for a moment when they might be needed in combat.”

“Well, I mean,” Dervish Guard started, but couldn’t finish. “I was just trying to think of why it might’ve healed so fast…”

“And that’s fine,” Tyr said. “But I’m not interested in ideas that get us nowhere.” He shifted so he could stand and let out a long breath. “I’m sorry. I suppose I’m still a bit exhausted from all the excitement. Please, continue without me.”

They did while Tyr headed out a small distance from the camp. He looked up at the face of the planet’s one moon, Luna, and contemplated all the things that had changed in just a week. He and Adaline were together, he could channel a weak level of chakra, and he had another two katanas beyond the one he’d brought. Adaline was quiet, content just slip into his presence, at his side and in his arm. But before he could finish his thoughts and say anything, a voice came to them both.

“You are a better hunter than I am.” Guard of Death held his giant axe aloft, examining Luna’s reflection in the blade.

“I didn’t know we were competing.”

“Are you aware of the sport of dueling?”

“I’ve been introduced to it.”

“My homeland is where the sport began. I was a Master of Six Arenas in the land, and killed many to earn that title. But I grew bored of besting men and decided to best monsters instead.” He let the axe fall to the ground and it splashed sand up around their feet. “But the Jhen… It was the first opponent whose mere description broke my conviction. I have faced men whose skills with a blade would put you in your grave, felled beasts that sliced my comrades in two, and I have done all this without knowing doubt.” Guard of Death didn’t look at Tyr or Adaline, didn’t change his tone, but there was still a shift that Tyr could feel in the air. “I would like to know what it is that drove you to hunt the Jhen.”

“My reasons won’t help you, Guard of Death,” said Tyr.

“I will be the navigator of my own destiny,” the Wyverian replied.

“Because no one else would.”

“It’s that simple?”

“No,” he said, rather plainly. “There are a lot of people who hunt when they want to, or when they need to for themselves, but none of them would go out against the Jhen when they were needed by others.” Tyr gently turned so that he was between Adaline and their unexpected guest. “I’m one of the few willing to go when no one else can find the courage. The odds don’t matter, the rules don’t matter; it’s just what needs to be done.”

“That is why the Guild does not trust you,” Guard of Death said. “You fight without permission, solely intent.”

“I suppose you could say that.”

“I am saying it, Tyr.” For the first time, each turned their gaze to meet the other’s. “The Guild finds you unworthy of carrying your blade any longer, and they have asked me, Mathias, the Devil’s Right Hand, to execute you.”

“Adaline,” Tyr said. “Go back to the carriage.”

“Tyr,” she said softly.

“Go back, Adaline. It’s night time. You should be in the carriage.”

Tyr drew out his Mohran Whisker and lowered the tip to the ground while Adaline dashed back through the sands. His breathing slowed deliberately. Without so much as a word between them, the two stepped backwards and turned so that they were facing each other at a respectable distance. Luna shone brilliantly off both blades.

Mathias moved first, leaping high into the air so that he could bring his blade heavily into the sand. Tyr rolled, but found that Mathias had planned just for that, sweeping his axe out through the space where Tyr’s foot had been a moment before. The Wyverian pressed the attack, blow after blow narrowly sweeping by his human opponent. Having planned his attack carefully, Tyr lunged after one of Mathias’s wider blows and was stopped by a giant fist to his throat. Caught so suddenly, he did nothing to block the kick which pinned him to the ground.

Tyr coughed heavily as Mathias’s boot pressed against his chest. Breathing was nearly impossible, but as he lifted his axe up again Tyr knew that wouldn’t be a problem much longer. With all the speed and power he could muster, Tyr rolled his feet back and kicked upwards into the wyverian’s groin. It wasn’t much, considering the heavy plating between them, but it was enough to send Mathias back a step. Tyr rolled back onto his feet and barely sidestepped the next two strikes.

Neither let up for a second, although Tyr hadn’t even managed to fully swing his blade. The taller man was simply too brutal, too precise with each swing despite the size of his weapon. Channeling white chakra down his blade, Tyr lifted his sword in a slashing arc against the axe as it fell. The weapons met and pushed each other back, which gave Tyr a chance to ram his shoulder into Mathias. The attack only made the wyverian grunt as he brought his leg up in a sweeping kick against Tyr’s head. Flat on his back once again, Tyr swung himself around and swept Mathias at the back on the knees.

Hardly as helpless as Tyr would’ve liked, his opponent slashed his axe down, and Tyr barely managed to catch its hilt. Akura Vashimu crystals licked his throat, barely drawing blood before Tyr threw the arm away and rolled. Both men got back to their feet as Tyr felt the sting of sand in his cut. “Bastard,” he mumbled, before he felt the earth shake beneath his feet.

“Watch out!” Orion shouted.

A blast of electrical energy tore through the ground and into the pair sending both hunters flying, followed by a screech which stunned them halfway through their falls. Tyr hit the ground hard, and looked up just in time to see a terrifying silhouette against the face of the moon.

Wings trailing whip-like tendrils spread out from a serpentine body that ended in a sharply spiked tail. Despite the dark of night, Tyr could clearly make out the white of the beast’s mane and the jewel-like crest on its head. Whatever it was, it looked like it could give a Rathalos a run for its zenny in both size and strength.

A moment later, before Orion and the others could reach them, a woman wrapped in what appeared to be no more than midnight blue cloth leapt in front of the fearsome flying wyvern as it dove at Tyr. With a grace he’d seldom seen in midair the huntress grabbed ahold of a tendril and flipped herself onto the beast’s electrified back. She tugged hard, yanking it off course and onto the ground where it howled in protest, bucking and whirling dangerously. Mathias, having found himself much closer to the wyvern, was blown back by an unexpected flap and subsequently launched out of sight when a tail swipe connected with his chest.

Tyr was just getting up to assist when Orion’s hand grabbed his shoulder. “Hold on,” Orion said. “I want to see this.”

Tyr saw why he wouldn’t be needed. Just like he’d killed half a hundred Los before, it was obvious this woman had dealt with whatever wyvern this was just as often. “So, what is that thing?” Tyr asked as another shrill cry escaped the beast’s mouth.

“The Berukyurosu. They’re so powerful the Guild won’t let anyone below Rank Twenty even try to touch one. And that fine example of the female form up there is Night Axe,” Orion explained. “She’s a Legend, depending on who you ask. Might show up here one night, and then in Pokke tomorrow. No one’s quite sure how she does it.”

They both watched, joined shortly by most of the other guards. Jaruk and Dervish Guard had stayed behind and guard the Princess, but the majority figured that standing between the lightning wyvern and the carriage was good enough.

Night Axe wielded a switch axe; she was no Legend though. Skilled, yes, but anyone with a Hunter Rank above twenty would have to be if they fought alone like she did.

Her basic technique was a dangerous one. As the Beru dipped any body part low-enough, she would thrust her axe up and use the head to grab onto it. Then, with surprising power, she would yank and launch herself airborne by switching to sword mode. In the air, the Beru swirled around, its whip-like tendrils screaming through the air at Night Axe, but she twisted her body around, her blade an axe again before Tyr noticed she’d triggered anything. Her weapon switched between modes easily twice as fast as the standard. She caught the tendril going past her to fling herself back into her target.

The Beru screeched loudly as Night Axe’s blade tore across its chest, sending blood and scale to the sand below. It snapped backwards, but not before Night Axe caught it again around the back of the neck. Throwing its three-pronged tail up sent a blast of electricity into the night air, but the huntress had already spiraled around behind the wyvern, dragging her blade down its back as she fell. With a rage-filled scream the Beru slammed into the ground, bringing bolts of lightning to the ground with it. Night Axe threw herself back into the fray, ducking beneath a frenzied swipe of its wings to send herself rocketing upwards again.

Sky Axe might have been a more-appropriate name, given how little she was ever on the ground. She let loose an elemental discharge to propel herself back upwards as she fell, and the Beru was as confused as most hunters were to fight an enemy that kept herself behind or above them at all times. Night Axe twirled around a blast, but was hit squarely by the second and sent hard into the ground. Tyr moved before anyone could reconsider the idea for him.

“You idiot!” Orion shouted, but he followed all the same. “Hammer Maiden, you’re with us!” She wasn’t his first choice, given her refusal to get off the ground in any fight, but she was also the only one that fit the bill. With Orion’s attention focused on the Beru, he didn’t even notice the barrel bomb sailing through the air until the hiss reached his ears. The explosion, as small as it was, threw him backwards, missing Hammer Maiden by centimeters.

“Seems she doesn’t want our help,” Hammer Maiden said to him with that infuriatingly calm voice of hers.

“You mean she actually bombed me like some wild Felyne?”

“She had far more accuracy than that.”

“By the Fata. Can you believe the ego on that one, Ty… Where’s Tyr?” He didn’t need to ask it, he could see Tyr’s blade flashing beneath the Beru’s tails, but he didn’t want to believe it. He held up a hand before Hammer Maiden could respond, and watched Tyr nearly get himself brutalized by a blast of lightning dropped from the Beru. He was lucky that he was using his Jhen weapon, because any of his other blades wouldn’t have cut through even the softest parts of the Beru’s hide. He was luckier that Night Axe was there, because without her he’d had been torn to shreds after one of the Beru’s hooks caught his armor and threw him a dozen meters through the sand.

By the time he was back on his feet, Tyr could feel his heart pounding in his ears. The Beru’s chakra was enough to throw his body into a rush of adrenaline, and that was wearing him thin faster than the effort he’d had to put into dodging bolts of lightning. He charged back in anyways, slicing at the vulnerable legs once before rolling out of the way of an incoming attack. And then another. From above him, Night Axe fell like a stone through the Beru’s raging strikes and landed next to him.

“First time?” she asked just before using Tyr as a springboard, hooking herself onto the escaping wyvern for another devastating blow against its chest. Tyr ran to keep up, but with every attempt to escape Night Axe’s fury, the Beru drew further away from him, and closer to Adaline’s carriage. Dervish Guard and Jaruk were standing in the way, but there wasn’t much they were going to be able to do. “FLASH!” Tyr yelled as he chucked the bomb. Night Axe caught the Beru’s head and actually forced it into the flash, sending them both toppling to the ground.

Night Axe brought her blade up in slash after slash on the downed wyvern, but her Sword didn’t seem to be overheating. No phial buildup at all, in fact. Tyr didn’t have time to be impressed by weapon variations though, only to unleash enough strikes to get his glow. That thin white glow that sharpened his weapon’s edge and focused his energies. He stumbled and fell to his knees the moment it was up, unable to sustain the glow with the Beru’s chakra pushing at him from every side.

His vision swam, and then went white as his chakra was forced back into him. The pain was excruciating, but it didn’t last long. However, when his eyes opened he was in midair over the Beru, his sword out of his hands. Night Axe must have tossed him into the air with her axe’s upswing to save his life. He spun, rolling as he hit the ground before heading back to his katana, and the back into the fray. But this time he really was too late, because Night Axe was already delivering the final blow.

As the Berukyurosu slumped lifelessly into the sand, its electric eyes out forever, Night Axe turned back to him. They stood for a few moments before she knelt down and carved a single piece off the beast. “The rest is yours,” she said before launching a handful of smoke bombs directly at him and the other groups of guards. By the time they’d cleared, there was no trace of her.

“I tell you what,” Orion said through coughs. “I wouldn’t mind showing her how well my axe can switch, if you know what I mean.”

“Something tells me she wouldn’t be interested.”

“Pah, she just needs to get to know me. And besides, you’ve already got the Princess. Leave some of the beautiful women for the rest of us.” Everyone just shook their heads as they went back to the caravan to get some sleep, everyone except for Mathias, who they didn’t see again.

Home was almost exactly as the group had left it. The barracks were still full of trained old faces and fresh new ones. The arena was still active twenty-seven hours a day, and nothing had crashed through the city walls recently. In fact, it wasn’t until Tyr broke off from the group to escort Adaline back to the castle that anything was different at all.

A dazzling woman with short cyan hair stood between two well-equipped hunters and a boy that must’ve been just a little over half of Adaline’s age, though he was wearing hunting gear as well. Apparently, they had been expecting the Princess. “Why, Adaline. Your father told me you’d taken an interest in a hunter, but I honestly expected more than just a city guard.”

“Why, Lior,” Adaline countered, but then she stopped herself, which apparently neither of them counted on. “This is Tyr, and his station is hardly what matters.”

“Oh my. You call him by his name _and_ he’s managed to stem your tongue?” Lior gave Tyr an appreciative look. “I can only hope that your hunting skills are as incredible as your ability to change women.”

“He did help take down the Jhen Mohran,” Adaline said. While Adaline seemed to be interested in bragging on his behalf, Tyr was more interested in Lior’s three companions and how silent they were. They were certainly well-trained.

The oldest of the three was dressed in a dark and jagged armor, uneven in every respect. It wasn’t balanced to favor one side, like traditional gunner armors, it just seemed to be a random mess of black and bone. The middle of the three was in shining Uragaan gear, his armor the epitome of symmetry. And the youngest was in a mixed set of so many wyverns that Tyr couldn’t name them all.

“Really?” Lior asked, turning her full attention to Tyr now. “Well, that is quite the feat. I’d like to see your skills someday, _Tyr_.” There was an edge to her voice, the same edge Adaline’s had that first night. He didn’t like it.

“Adaline,” Tyr said. “I’ll see you in-“

“Nonsense. If I’m going to be stuck here for the next week then I’m going to get to know the first good influence in my daughter’s life.”

As it turned out, Lior was of the firm belief that hunting was the only pursuit in life worth anything. She’d trained her sons to be hunters, and had hoped that her daughters would follow along in her footsteps.

“Alas,” she said, finishing off a glass of wine. “They were both far more interested in staying at home with their father; no offense, Marcus.” The King shook his head and raised a hand to signal that it was okay. “At least both of them have taken an interest in someone with courage and honor. Again, no offense meant.” Despite how well the King was maintaining his composure, his knuckles were turning white, and his fork was quickly growing bent.

Adaline whispered an apology to Tyr, who took the opportunity to squeeze her hand. “What is it that brings you back to Fahrenn?” Tyr asked.

“We come once a year to celebrate our anniversary,” Lior answered. This surprised Tyr to no end.

“You’re… still together?”

There were plenty of laughs. “Unlike the common folk, royalty have certain obligations, so we feel no compunction to stay together through every day and night. We also tend to not marry for love. Not that we _can’t_ marry for love, mind you, just that there are traditions to consider and better reasons.”

“What other reason is there to be married?”

Lior laughed again. “I do like you, Tyr. So focused on hunting that you don’t take time to get into politics. Oh, were you only a few years older.” This drew a tight squeeze on Tyr’s arm from Adaline. “But I suppose that’s something for another life. Tell me, Tyr, how was the Jhen Mohran?”

“It was bigger than a mountain and stronger than a pack of Orugaron,” Tyr said. “I suggest you find Orion, the Climbing Captain, if you want a more lively telling. I’m a hunter, after all, not a bard.”

Lior offered Tyr another look that suggested she was indeed Adaline’s mother. “Perhaps I will at that,” she said. “Well, do tell us something about yourself. What sort of monster do you prefer to hunt and why?”

“The Rathian,” he replied, and Adaline smiled at the touch of the pendant against her skin. “I find that the Ian is such a beautiful wyvern. Graceful, majestic, and yet undeniably as powerful as the Los. Of all the wyverns I’ve seen in the world, none can compare; none have even come close.”

“Have you heard of the mythical Golden Rathian?”

“No, but I’ve fought the Silver Rathalos.”

“Really?” she asked, leaning towards him. “How was it? Did you find it as engaging as the Jhen?” Tyr had almost taken it for granted that people knew the story by now, so when he explained it to Lior her passive expression didn’t faze him at all. However, Lior wasn’t the only one listening.

“You really thought to take down a Silver Los by yourself?” asked Degin, the oldest of the trio that had turned out to be Adaline’s brothers. “Rage or not, you couldn’t be that foolish.”

Lior raised a hand for silence. “Now, now, Degin. Tyr hardly had the training necessary to recognize the situation for what it was. Besides, to him it was just another Rathalos, something which he’d killed dozens of before.”

As much as he hated to admit it, he really had been that foolish. Tyr couldn’t remember what that level of emotion could do to him, or how it could cloud his thinking so much. He knew he was so blinded by Natalie’s death that he hadn’t assessed the situation properly. Knew it, and yet couldn’t fathom something with enough control over him to make him do so. A teardrop hit his palm, making him jerk slightly.

“Is everything alright, Blank Blade?” the King asked, having noticed before anyone else.

“I,” he started, and shook his head. “I just realized the time, my lord. I’m afraid I need to be excused. Commander Clay Claw will be needing my report soon.”

“That Commander can certainly wait until you’re finished here,” the King said. “Do not feel as though you need to rush off.”

Adaline’s stare begged him not to go, but Tyr knew that she could get away just as easily if she wanted to, and he couldn’t stay there any longer. He needed something else, something other than Adaline’s family and those stories of his past. What that was, he couldn’t guess, but he knew he wouldn’t find it there. Standing, he bowed to those assembled at the enormous dinner table. “With all due respect, Marcus. I’m afraid I’ve become accustomed to breathing the outside air at this hour.”

A few minutes later, Tyr burst through the gates of the castle and into the twilit streets. His Mohran Whisker hummed in his ear, sending him down to the arena where he paid a thousand zenny just to sit in the stands and watch a lancer take down a Cephadrome. He was decent, although it was obvious that he was new to lancing. The hunter blocked far too often, hiding behind his shield even when he had clear chances to strike or evade, or even channel into a counter. Even with Tyr’s limited knowledge of the weapon style, he knew that the fight could’ve easily been minutes faster with just a hint more bravery and effort. Tyr didn’t feel sad, not really, but he was crying all the same.

 Lior approached him in the stands near the end of the fight and set herself down. “Adaline was right,” she said in introduction. “You’re so entranced with this place that you don’t seem to notice someone staring at you the whole time.” As Lior spoke, she brushed a bit of accumulated sand from her Agnaktor tasset. “You ran off so suddenly at dinner that I didn’t get to finish asking you my questions.”

Another fight started, this time between an experienced heavy bowgunner and a Daimyo Hermitaur. Tyr stood up, wiping his cheeks. “Lior, I’m afraid I don’t know how else to say this, so forgive me. I don’t care about your questions. I’m in no mood for company right now, so please just leave me be.”

“Do you really think it’s going to be that easy?” she asked as the gunner launched a volley of piercing shots through the Monoblos skull the Daimyo used for a shell.

The crab retaliated with a blind charge, using the horn of the fallen to lead the way. Tyr did his best to walk away. Both fell when something caught their legs. Lior swooped over Tyr as he lay in the dip between rows of seats, pinning his legs and arms expertly. “I’m not to be ignored.” Her smile was as wide as the one on the Daimyo’s shell.

“I’m not your plaything,” Tyr spat back. Foam fell from the carapaceon’s mouth as it raged, pushing itself back out of the pitfall trap. “Now get off of me.”

“You will be whatever I say you are,” Lior purred, letting him see past her to where Adaline was being held by her eldest brother, a knife at her throat. “So be good.” A series of rapid explosions signaled the release of a powerful cluster shot which toppled the beast again.

“You wouldn’t dare hurt her…” he growled uselessly, swinging his claws in a pitiful attempt at catching his enemy.

“Not here, no. People would surely see if I did it here. But you can be sure that I will hurt my sorry excuse for a daughter later, safe from prying eyes in the castle, if you aren’t as good as I want you to be.” She stood up again just as a crag shot lodged itself in the beast’s claw. “I’ll be seeing you soon, Tyr.” The explosion sent carapaceon shell fragments across the arena floor.

The Mohran Whisker hummed to him again in its sheath, and Tyr found himself racing across the arena towards the captured princess. Of course, even as he did so he was clipped in the side by a sharp spike which unfolded and blew him to the topmost rows. The few spectators left all looked his way, then across the way for where the shot had come from, but there didn’t seem to be anyone with a gun. It must have been some sort of accident, they all surmised. After all, the gunner was still firing crags, wasn’t he? Picking himself up, Tyr watched as they dragged Adaline off through one of the exits.

If he’d been at his peak, he might’ve been able to recover in the roll and rush after them, but he weighed his odds against a gunner that could hit a moving target as small as he was from a distance where that gunner couldn’t be seen. They weren’t good. But, he’d never given up because of odds before. On his feet in a moment, Tyr raced again for the exit they took Adaline out of. There was no bullet this time, but when he reached the hallway there was Degin, his black and bone armor looking particularly menacing.

“Out of my way,” Tyr ordered.

“No,” Degin answered. When Tyr lunged he found himself on his back before he knew what was happening, and a metal-encased fist slammed his skull down against the stone floor with a single motion. His head swimming, Tyr barely managed to put his arms up as blow after blow rained down on him.

“Why are you doing this? She’s your sister!”

“She is a diplomat,” Degin said as he pummeled away. “I am a hunter. We are not brother and sister. We are different species.”

“That’s a load of dung.” With a quick motion he caught Degin’s hand and yanked him down, forcing the man to roll back onto his feet while Tyr regained his own footing. This time, Tyr recognized the stance his opponent was in. “You’re… using Chakration to actually fight?”

“Everything is a weapon, even one’s own body.”

Although he didn’t have a reply to give, an arm reached around his neck and held tight, cutting off any chance of one. Tyr struggled, grabbed, gasped, and flung himself back against the wall, but his attacker held on tight, and soon Degin was pounding against his stomach, knocking what air he had out of his body faster than he could hope to regain it. The world dimmed, went dark, and then silence consumed him.

He awoke on the cold stone floor, his head pounding and his body feeling stiff. Armor had never been anyone’s choice for sleepwear, even if it wasn’t for very long. Though he didn’t know how long it had been, he knew it had been long enough that he stood no chance of catching up. With a deep sigh, Tyr made his way back to the barracks. Oliarta, Orion, Molin, and Jaruk were waiting up for him. So was Commander Clay Claw. There were tears in Oliarta’s eyes. “Is there a problem?” he asked.

“The Guild,” Oliarta said, but she couldn’t finish her sentence.

“They’ve recommended your expulsion from the Guard,” Orion said for her.

“And the Guard answers to them now instead of the royal family?” Tyr asked defiantly.

The old Melynx shook her head. “The queen herself gave me the order to do it; the Guild just recommended it. I’m sorry.”

“I suppose they’ll want my armor and weapons again then?” His chakra was palpably white, surging around his hands as it searched for a release.

“No,” Clay Claw said firmly. “I made certain they knew this time that all of your equipment was yours. I have to let you go, but you haven’t been expelled from this city.”

“They know I have nowhere to go but Loc Lac anyways, and it’ll take a long time to get there myself. So, I guess this is goodbye,” Tyr said.

“Not exactly,” Orion replied, drawing questioning looks. “Commander, I think I’ve done just about all I can in the Guard.” Clay Claw, despite the situation, couldn’t help but chuckle. “I quit.”

“Resignation accepted.”

His anger flickered out as his former commanding officer stepped up alongside him and clapped him on the shoulder. “What do you say then, Tyr? We’ll head back to my house and have ourselves enough ale to get a Gravios drunk. Let everyone know where we are, eh Jaruk?”

Jaruk gave a nod and patted Oliarta on the shoulder. “Yeah, will do.” And as the pair of former guards and Molin departed he called out. “Hey, Tyr. I’ll make certain Adaline knows where you are!”

“What part of everyone didn’t you get?” Orion shouted back with a laugh as they stepped through the gates and out into the city proper.

Jaruk took Oliarta back to the barracks first. “They’re both going to be okay, you know?”

“I know,” she sniffed. “It’s just not fair. It’s not fair at all. Why did they have to recommend his release?”

“He fought a Beru, Oliarta.”

“But he didn’t die or anything! And he’s been a good guard. And he… he…”

“I know.” Jaruk shrugged. “But it’s not like we can change what happened, or the rules of the Guild. If he’d been killed, or if he’d gotten someone else killed in that fight… They have rules for a reason. And I think we all know that Tyr’s been skirting them since day one.”

“You didn’t complain when he saved your skin.”

“And I’m not going to, but that doesn’t make it legal. You can’t keep breaking the rules and expect not to get caught.”

“I don’t understand how you and Molin can be such total opposites.”

“You don’t have to, but we’re not as opposite as you might think.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said, climbing up into her bunk.

“You’re sure you don’t want to come to the party?”

“I don’t want to bring everyone down.”

“Okay, but you’ll be missed.” Jaruk wasn’t about to argue with her. Oliarta wasn’t the sort that you argued with unless you outranked her. Even then, he didn’t think he knew how to argue that it was a better idea for her to be there than not. It was going to be a bittersweet event, and the sweet part wasn’t even a guarantee.

At the castle gates he saluted the two guards on duty. He didn’t recognize them, which was unusual. “Evening,” he started. “I have a message for Doting Princess.”

“She ain’t taking visitors,” the first guard spat. “So shove off.”

“I’m not a visitor,” Jaruk replied with his best smile. “I’m just here to deliver a message, so if you would jus-“

“Didn’t you hear her?” the second guard said, leveling a lance point at Jaruk’s head. A Knight’s weapons weren’t forged from Guild ores, and Jaruk had never been within striking distance of a drawn one before. The way it broke through his chakra instead of blending with it made him instinctively pull away. “She said no visitors. Messengers included.”

“Right. Would you be able to deliver the message for me then?”

“Do we look like messengers to you?”

“No,” he said as he stepped back again. “Any idea when I can come back to deliver this? It’s rather urgent.”

“Yeah. You can come back soon as the Queen leaves.” The first guard snorted. “She don’t care for folks disturbing her family.”

“Of course.” Jaruk sighed and looked off towards the Princess’ room, but there was no sign of Adaline. Even if he’d been in the room though, he wouldn’t have seen her. Adaline was locked away in what had once been the dungeons of the castle, but which was now used mostly as storage. Her family had accumulated gifts from thousands of diplomats, grateful citizens, and otherwise, and since they couldn’t just get rid of it all, it was kept in storage.

There were rugs, and ornate paintings, rare ores, skeletons of various monsters, tomes, clothing, and more than one device that no one knew the purpose of anymore. All of it was shelved, put in crates, or set out on display for all of the people that might have ever cared to come down and look. No one did. Even the guests who had insisted on giving them the gifts never wanted to see them again once they were handed over. But Adaline had always loved it.

She’s been locked in the Guest Hall several times as punishment when she was younger. Lior had always thought that it was a suitable punishment for a diplomat daughter. She’d been right at the time. Adaline could remember crying to herself behind the Shield of Sunlight, hoping it would protect her from the bones of the beasts all around her. Boredom had been what brought her back out from behind the shield, and boredom was what made her pick up the Monster Ecology book from Minegarde.

Her fingers ran over the spine, now so broken from her overuse that she feared what opening it again might do to it. “This time I’ll be gone for a long time, old friend.” She laughed at herself. “Talking to books now. Tyr, what have you done to me?” Her voice shook in her anger. “I swear if she’s touched hair on your head…” She shoved her way from the shelf and walked with purpose past the Zinogre, the Espinas, and even the Glavenus until she found the only thing in the Hall that hadn’t been put there by strangers.

With a careful hand she pulled the dark bandages from the cocoon, wrapping them around her hands, her arms, and then her feet. She wrapped up each leg, along her torso, and even around her neck, sealing them into place with a simple tuck and a surge of chakra. The last bandage came off the blade of her axe, and that she spun around her head, wrapping up every inch of her hair and sealing it so tightly that it was as though it weren’t even there. Her item belt in place, Night Axe picked up her blade last of all, giving it a single swing to make certain of its weight before she slung it into place.

“Wouldn’t go up there without a plan.”

“I have a plan.”

“Not a very good one.”

“I didn’t know you could read minds, Commander.”

“I didn’t know you didn’t have one, Night Axe.”

The huntress turned around, spotting Clay Claw on an upper shelf among some masks. How long had she been there? “What exactly do you recommend I do then?”

“That depends entirely on your goals.” The Commander dropped from the upper shelves, catching herself on all fours, but not stumbling in the least. “I’m guessing your first priority is escaping your… Royal Problem?”

“My first priority is Tyr.”

“I suppose I should’ve guessed that. So you’ll both need an escape route then.”

“I’ve got that covered. Just need to get a message to Wen.”

“Consider it done. What about your brothers?”

“They’re scum. If they get in my way, I’ll take them down the same as I will Lior.”

“They’ve got a few dozen Knights on their side.”

“I don’t suppose I could borrow some of yours?”

Clay Claw shook her head. “I can’t appear disloyal, and nor can my guards.”

“I’m royalty too, you know.”

“And if your word carried as much weight as the Queen’s, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Night Axe sighed. “I can fight them. I’ve trained for this. Once I’m outside, they won’t be able to catch me.”

“Don’t be a meowr-“ She stopped herself, coughed to clear her throat. “Don’t be a moron. You’re not that good. No one is, especially not while you’re defending someone.”

“Tyr can handle himself.”

“Against monsters. Not against people.”

“People are monsters. They’re just a different kind.”

“That we all are, but it’s still suicide to fight them. Think of something better.”

“Why don’t you tell me your ideas instead, hmm?” She let out a frustrated breath. “I’m sorry. Old habits. Will you please tell me what I should do, Commander?”

“You _should_ forget about this whole thing and wait her out.” Adaline was just about to object when Clay Claw raised a silencing paw. “But, since you won’t, you should use who and what you are to your advantage. You aren’t just a warrior of some renown. You are the last remaining Princess of Fahrenn.”

“And, as you said, my word doesn’t carry the same weight as Lior’s does.”

“True, but I’ve always fund it funny how name-dropping works. A phrase like ‘The Queen wanted me to’ can get you almost anywhere. Even down to this musty old place where her daughter is locked away.”

“You are a genius.”

“About time someone recognized that in me. I’ll have to update my Guild Card.”

She was just about to leave when a thought struck her. “Why are you helping me?”

“Is there some reason I shouldn’t?”

“Call me paranoid, but you’ve never been anything but loyal… to everyone. The Guild, your guards, my family. You never seem to be on the wrong side of anyone, so why help me go against Lior?”

“You said it yourself, Princess. It’s you going against her, not me.”

“I could tell her it was you.”

“Maybe I’m helping the wrong side after all.”

“Commander, please. I appreciate all of the advice; I just want to know why you’re helping me. I want to know-“

“If you can trust me. Yes.” Clay Claw looked to the masks on the shelf she’d been perched on. “Do you know the story of those masks, Princess?”

“They were a gift from a wyverian who had supposedly collected them from a dozen different Laka tribes.”

“That’s right. But did you hear how she got them?”

“No.”

“She killed them. One group after another, she killed and killed until she could kill one without damaging the mask, and then she did the same with twelve other tribes. So many lives were wasted so that she could collect a bunch of masks that she just gave away anyways.” Of all the times Adaline had ever heard the Commander speak, she had never heard her sound so sad. She’d heard her threaten guards with things far worse than death, and yet the tone was unmistakable. “You were young, but do you remember how your parents reacted to the gift?”

“No,” she said, but she could already feel the heat under her skin at whatever Lior had done.

“Your father didn’t want them, but he couldn’t refuse a gift from the Chief of Erutu. And your mother smiled.” The Commander closed her eyes. “I will never forget her smile for as long as I live. It is the one thing I want wiped from the face of this planet. And so, Princess, even if she can’t ever know it was me, that’s why I’m helping you.”

It was easy-enough to get out. Night Axe had done it a hundred times before, but the Knights at the top of the stairs weren’t usually there. A pair of Gajalaka paralysis knives later and the Knights were tied up and gagged back near the shield Adaline had once hid behind. She would make certain someone found them, but that was all something for later.

“The last guard change was an hour ago,” Clay Claw had said. “That should give you plenty of time.”

Night Axe slipped through the halls, dodging the Knights easily. It was incredible how many people dismissed a fast-moving shadow as nothing more than a trick of the night. She was almost out of the castle when she heard Curro behind a door. “It’s hardly a fair fight if they’re still drunk.”

“You still hold onto that stupid idea that fights should be fair?” Degin answered. “Fights are never fair.”

“So Mother keeps saying. But don’t you ever get tired of all of it? Don’t you ever just want to fight something and defeat it on your own strength?”

“Our strength is our ability to tip the odds in our favor.”

“ _Tip_ ,” Curro spat. “But we aren’t tipping anything by letting that Blank Blade and his friend get drunk before they come to fight us. We’ve turned the whole table on its side.”

“Tip or turn or flip, it doesn’t matter. Winning is what matters. You can fight fairly on your own hunts.”

Curro scoffed, but didn’t object any further. “Well, we might as well get ready. They’ll be here soon.”

Night Axe barely had time to lift herself into the arches before the door opened. Degin, Curro, and Plaka all came out, walking towards the Royal Suites. She took a deep breath, and rethought her plans. With Tyr coming, that meant that sneaking and lying wouldn’t be enough. She crept into a storage room that she used for spare supplies, grabbed smoke bombs, an extra set of Gajalaka knives, and a pair of cleansers.

The hallways leading to the Royal Suites were, as she expected, lined with Knights. Not more than a dozen in any single hallway, but more than enough to be trouble. She waited for Tyr, quietly scanning the escape path she planned to take. Nine Knights, plus at least one patrolling. Most of them had slower weapons like lances, but there was one with a set of dual blades, and another who was polishing an arrowtip for her bow. Her only advantage would be surprise, and, if Clay Claw’s advice was right, a little bit of blind loyalty.

Then she heard Tyr’s voice down a different hallway, saw him enter into Lior’s room, and felt her heart skip. Whatever other plans Lior had, if he was in her room then that meant she wanted him for her own. She wasn’t going to lose him.

“Someone help! The Princess! She’s escaped!” she called down the hall in a higher pitch than usual. She didn’t wait to see if it worked. She ducked down another passageway, teasing herself around the halls she knew better than anyone, and came up on the other side.

“The King is under attack!” she shouted in a deeper tone. “All Knights to his chambers!”

And then again, as far as she could manage with so many moving feet. “FIRE! IN THE KITCHEN!” She didn’t bother disguising her voice the third time. The panic and confusion would work their magic to disguise her voice for her. In the end, there were only three Knights left. A pair of sleeping knives hit the two lancers in their thighs, dropping them twice as fast as any gas could. And by the time to Knight with her twin blades had drawn them, Night Axe had dropped on top of her, her axe hooked beneath the woman’s neck.

“I don’t have time to play around,” Night Axe said.

“Nor do I,” the Knight countered, bucking the Hunter off of her with a sudden twist.

“I don’t want to have to hurt you.”

“Don’t worry about that.” She smirked. “You’re using a Hunter’s Axe. You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.”

“That’s very observant of you.” Night Axe smiled. “But it’s also very wrong.”

Lior had taught Adaline exactly two things before she’d left. The first was that she had to fight for every inch of what she wanted in the world. When the Knight came at her, the Princess twisted, hooked her opponent between the legs and launched her into the air. She couldn’t hurt her with her weapons, but a well-placed blast before she could land sent her through the open window and down an entire floor. The second was that ending a fight quickly was the fastest way to make certain you got what you wanted.

She rushed to the door, cracking off the hinges with powerful swipes, until the doors were only standing on their weight alone. Then she turned, braced herself, and charged her phial burst. She’d had her axe custom built for quick bursts, without sacrificing power for the final burst. Against monsters it proved useful for maintaining aerial superiority, and against the doors it made certain they didn’t just fall over while she was charging.

The doors erupted from their place, slamming into Degin and Plaka with enough force to knock them off their feet. Night Axe let loose a second burst behind herself to launch herself into Curro, who took her shoulder bash with a bit more sturdiness than she’d hoped. But he didn’t have the time to counter. She rammed a paralysis knife into the gap under his arm and the paralyzing toxins sent him to the floor. Her last knife she threw at Lior, who caught it deftly at the last second before it could pierce her shoulder.

“Well, well, well,” Lior said. “The famous Night Axe, in my castle, and no one told me.” Her voice was edged with a tone Adaline knew too well; someone was going to pay. “We were just about to have some fun. Won’t you join us?” With the last word she tossed the blade back into the downed Orion.

“Get him out of here!” Night Axe shouted to Tyr, who was barely on his feet to begin with.

Grabbing the nearly limp Orion and his blades, Tyr left without looking back. He didn’t know where to go. The city didn’t seem safe, and neither did the castle, but before he could make up his mind one way or another, Night Axe was running past him, chucking a flash bomb and a smoke bomb behind her as she went. Tyr followed her as fast as he could, but the drugs in his system still hadn’t worn off. She knocked away a Knight that had appeared out of nowhere, but it only delayed them for so long. His head swam, and Orion may as well have been made of twitching cannonballs. Even pushing his strength and stamina as far as he dared, Tyr barely managed to keep up with her. She was everywhere at once, sometimes in three places at once. Sometimes nowhere at all. Around a corner he didn’t remember taking, he lost her, but found himself on the floor of a dark hallway a moment later when her axe caught him and dragged him through a hidden door.

As the wall slid closed, several smaller slots opened automatically along the wall, spilling novacrystal light through the long hallway. Night Axe, panting almost as heavily as Tyr was, slumped against the wall for a second, and then slammed a cleansing booster into the ground on her way down.

The mist that spilled out of the booster seeped into his chakra, and when he breathed it in it hit his body like a bolt of lightning. His head cleared, and his body was in his control again. “That was some rescue,” Tyr said as he checked on Orion, who was recovering twice as fast as he was.

“Tell me… about it,” Orion coughed as he swallowed down one of his mega potions. “You’d must’ve take down a dozen guards just to get the halls that empty.”

“It’s not as hard as it sounds,” Night Axe’s familiar voice said to them as the huntress unwrapped the bandages around her head, the navy blue giving way to a brighter and fuller head of sapphire blue hair. “At least not when you give them all the option to be in another part of the castle for a few minutes.”

“Adaline?!” Orion shouted, his voice echoing into the dim light.

“Yeah, it’s me,” she said when his mouth closed. “I’m Night Axe. But be quiet.”

“I don’t understand,” Orion said, still a bit loudly. “I know you weren’t anywhere near Pokke when those Tigrexes were plaguing the mountain.”

“That’s why I’m not the only Night Axe.” She bit her lip and looked at Tyr. “Thank you for keeping it a secret. Orion, you can’t tell anyone.”

“Tell anyone? Me? You must think I’m… well, me.”

Tyr shook his head as he crawled forward to kiss Adaline. “You’ve saved me twice now. I can’t imagine what I’m going to owe you for this.”

“I can think of a few things,” she said with a smile.

“Hey, don’t forget about me!” Orion whispered loudly as he hit Tyr in the leg. “I’m gonna kick your sorry ass after you buy me dinner. And you let me go on about Night Axe the other night too!” He hit Tyr again.

“Yeah. Well, I think this makes us even, right?”

Orion chuckled, and hit Tyr again. It didn’t hurt. Barely even registered, but Tyr pulled his leg away anyways. “You still owe me something to eat. And a drink that isn’t drugged.”

“Where does this lead, Adaline?” Tyr asked, looking down the seemingly endless hallway.

“It’s part of a tunnel system my father had put in so that I could go hunting without the world noticing.”

“Does Lior know about any of this?” Orion asked.

“Of course not,” Adaline said as the three of them set off. “If she did, she’d be here by now. I’ve also prepared for a carriage that can take us away, and left a note for my father to tell him I’m going away for a short while. Officially it’s to cleanse me before the suitors come, and while I’d love to be here myself to tell them they’re too late…” She paused to press herself against Tyr, and the handles of their weapons crossed. “I’m going to be too busy enjoying myself to remember they’re coming.”

As she promised, there was an underground river that stretched through caverns that it must’ve taken years to carve out, even to their narrow width. A boat, barely big enough for the three of them and their equipment, took them through the dark, winding passages slowly. They spoke quietly, for even whispers rang as loud as a normal voice. It was eventually decided that Kokoto would be an excellent escape, because even though it was famous as the home of the first Legend, it was still small and out of the way. Not about to let them have all the fun, as he described it, Orion decided he would accompany the pair just as the boat came to a stop below a shaft of moonlight.

“After all,” he said as he began climbing the steps carved into the stone. “I’ve been guarding the royal family too long to just quit cold Popo.”

At the surface was a simple hooded cart, led by a feisty old wyverian who introduced himself as Wen. He’d been a friend of the family since before they ruled Fahrenn, and certainly hadn’t stopped just because of one rotten apple that married into the bunch. He hitched up his one Aptonoth, let the hunters rest atop the supplies in the back, and together they all took off to Kokoto, leaving their red-rimmed home behind.


	13. Full Circle

Dawn brought with it a much harsher glare in winter than it did in summer, even if it came later, and Tyr lifted his arm to shield both his eyes and those of his still-sleeping girlfriend. She was snuggled so close to him that he wondered if her eyes could detect anything beyond his cheek, but he was still too cautious to just let it be. They’d been in Kokoto for three months, and with snow on the ground they weren’t going to be leaving anytime soon. It wasn’t that the roads were impassable due to snow accumulation, but rather that winter in the region brought out the more vicious predators from their summer hibernation.

The three of them had been contracted for more than their fair share of hunts from the Village Chief, who wasn’t used to having so many capable hunters in his village at one time. In all of that time, Tyr had relearned how to feel finer emotions like solace, serenity, and even an unhealthy dose of jealousy whenever he saw the local men eying Adaline in her form-fitting armor made from a mix of Berukyurosu and Barioth materials. It certainly allowed her an incredible amount of movement range, which suited her fighting style, and the fur of both the Beru’s mane and the Barioth’s hide kept her warm so far from her desert home, but he did wish she’d had it made a tad less revealing.

“Don’t you like to see me in it?” she murmured to him as they settled into camp one night on a long hunt for a Zinogre.

“You know I do, Addy.” He couldn’t lie to her. “But even Orion won’t shut up about how, well, how well-shaped your butt is.”

Adaline, despite being scolded, nestled herself against Tyr in the firelight as Orion returned from his scouting. “My butt is all Tyr’s, Orion. So stop telling him how lucky he is to have it.”

They had all had a good laugh about it then, but Tyr had never quite gotten over it, especially not when she went off on quests without him to train someone or to help with something when he was busy. He’d never been with anyone for very long back in Nifila, and with how much he worried about what was happening out on those quests it wasn’t any wonder to him. In those still moments of dawn, however, holding the runaway princess in his arm and feeling the warmth of her supple curves pressed against his side there wasn’t any doubt in his mind.

The soft tickle of her lips on his neck nearly broke the stillness of his arm. “Good morning,” Adaline whispered to him. “And thank you for blocking the light.”

“Anytime, Addy,” he replied, turning his head so that he could catch her lips with his. “Did we have anything planned today?”

“When don’t we?” she murmured, her lips brushing along his as she spoke. “We should just blow Orion off today and stay in bed. It’s too cold to go outside anyways.”

She was always tempting him to stay in bed, away from the world so that only she could have him, and, had they been married, he might’ve agreed. As it stood though, lying in bed with a busty, blue-haired beauty would’ve been too much of a temptation to resist all day; he wasn’t ready for children. So, as gently as he could he tickled the small of her back so that she’d give him another kiss before telling her they needed to get up.

“Oh, fine.” She mocked a pout as she stood, letting the beam of light peeking through the window draw a line down her spine. “But one day you’re going to want this and I’m going to tell you no.” With a smirk over her shoulder, she shook her hips and then quickly dashed for her armor.

Tyr rose more slowly, savoring his smile from her antics. He pulled on his own Barioth greaves, thankful for the fur-lined inseams in the chill of the morning air. Nifila hadn’t been quite this cold, even in the depths of winter, but Kokoto was much further north and so he was adjusting, just like the other two. Unlike his girlfriend, Tyr had mixed Rathalos armor into his set in order to maximize his attack potential while balancing his elemental resistance. The armor’s appearance was also quite terrifying, which Orion appreciated more than Adaline did.

They finished dressing at the same time, and stepped out into the tiny village that was packed into the snow-covered forest. Orion was already up, having a chat with the Village Chief about the good old days. They were quite the pair, with the Chief going on about how his father trained the first Legend until he was able to conquer a Lao-Shan Lung, and with Orion spouting off his own story about what had become his personal conquest of the Jhen Mohran. They both told their stories at the same time, trading off comparable sections whenever it seemed most appropriate.

“And then,” the Chief said. “Then the Legendary Hunter took my father’s sword from the stone and went on to greater adventures!”

“Aww, we missed the whole thing already?” Adaline teased.

“You gotta get up earlier than the break of dawn to get in on this party,” Orion said, bundled up in his Blangonga armor. Unlike his friends, Orion insisted that one needed a suit from a single monster in order to truly appreciate armor. “You guys ready to tackle the mountain? Need to get us a few Anteka before the big wyverns eat all of them. Long way ‘til spring.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Tyr said as he turned to the Snowy Mountain Range in the distance.

It took a day to get out of the forest, and another two to escape the plains and reach the mountains. Luckily for them, most of the Anteka had already made their trip down from the peaks for the winter. They spent the first day gathering a dozen bodies each and packing them in ice to keep them good for the trip back. A second day like that would be all they’d need.

The night was cold, so cold that they each had to down double rations of hot drinks even with the fire roaring. They cooked one of the Anteka to keep their stamina up, but by the morning everyone’s stomach was growling, so they cooked another and went out hunting for the last hunks of meat. They found a large group after a few hours and split up to surround them.

Tyr took up a position in the area where Orion and Adaline would be chasing the herd. He waited quietly just below the ridge for the rumbling that would tell him to draw his sword. If he timed it right, he could easily cleave through six in one blow, and, if he were luckier, those he felled wouldn’t get trampled too hard. If he weren’t lucky, he would need to kill more than just those they needed, and they could leave the mangled ones to keep the Tigrex from feeding too heavily on the remaining herd.

It was taking a long time though. So long that Tyr was tempted to leave his post. “Has to just be my imagination,” he told himself. “Time always passes slowly when you’re waiting.” And yet still the minutes dragged on. In his mind, he could see them losing track of time laughing at some jokes, or even stealing a few kisses. He had to remind himself that Adaline was faithful, and that Orion was his best friend. They wouldn’t betray him, but that didn’t explain what was taking them.

Tyr forced himself to stay put, to concentrate on his technique. He was so close to getting his chakra past white and into yellow that he could almost feel that fine line. What seemed like eons ago he knew how to get to each level without so much as a thought, but since his reset, as Orion had taken to calling it, he had a painfully precise insight into every tiny difference in power that he could achieve. But even as he practiced his swings trying to break that fine line, the idea of Adaline and Orion kept him from focusing his chakra.

They had now spent twenty minutes on a two-minute job. His stomach in knots, and his patience used up, he went up and over the ridge. It took no time all to see what had kept him waiting. There was a giant pseudowyvern tearing through the area. It’s green and orange claws had left a swath of Anteka carcasses in the area, and both of his partners were barely keeping up with its brutal assault.

Throwing himself down the hill, Tyr ripped into the icy spikes on the creature’s tail before it could see him, flowing into a second slash across the beast’s wing-arm. More ice swirled around its front claws and up the edges of its wings. Armor fit for a beast.

“About time!” Orion called out as he circled around to shave the ice off the demon’s wings, since mounting had proven more trouble than it was worth.

“Didn’t want to risk the hunt because I got bored,” Tyr shouted back, focusing his chakra more heavily into his blade as he narrowly avoided an icy blast.

“Next time,” Adaline said, using her axe to throw herself into the air, only to bring her sword form down on the creature’s back. “Get bored faster!”

They would’ve laughed, but it was no time for laughter.

“Seriously though, this whole broken chakra meaning no long-range communication is getting old!” Orion said as he barely ducked beneath another tail swipe, the icy spikes scratching his nose.

“Well, were you gonna take down the herd by yourself?” Adaline countered for Tyr, who was too busy trying to land another strike.

The pseudowyvern was far more aggressive than anything they’d had to fight together. It barely stood still, and when it did it was only so it could unleash a spinning strike with its whole body. Every moment was a struggle against both the wyvern and their own stamina, now running dangerously low in the cold. As Tyr and Orion both took what was left of a tail to the chest, it was starting to look like they wouldn’t be able to finish what the pseudowyvern had started.

Adaline twisted into the air, but the beast was focused solely on her. It lunged upwards and brought her crashing down beneath its powerful claws. “Get her out! She’s out of potions!” Tyr called to Orion, who was already going for the rescue by the time Tyr had finished his first sentence.

Tyr drew out a handful of bomb arowana scales and lobbed them into the bleeding end of the tail. The explosion wasn’t very large, but it was painful enough that the beast roared and turned. With its full attention, Tyr sheathed his katana and filled his hands with his chakra, pushing against that thin line with all his might while his opponent charged him. Digging his heels in, Tyr drew and threw his blade in an upward arc.

Orion didn’t see the cut miss its mark by an inch or even Tyr’s shocked expression when the pseudowyvern pinned him against the ground. Claws covered in ice tore through his armor like it was cloth, and blood flooded out of his comparably tiny body. He rolled as best he could, dodging the snapping jaws only to have the icy spikes along its body pushed further into him. His vision faded for a second, and when it came back the beast was still snapping at him. His vision faded again, and though it seemed as fast as a blink, when he came to his now-bloody vision was no longer obscured by the monster.

“Adaline! It’s dead!” Orion shouted, tugging the raving woman from the pseudowyvern’s body. She had butchered it with her axe. Apparently the creature had been lower on health than they’d though, because it had gone down after a few more hits, but it hadn’t been enough for her. At first, he’d let her go just to keep her from tearing into him instead, but after she’d put three holes and a series of deep gouges through the body he decided enough was enough.

“I was making sure,” she said as she kicked it one final time. “If these things are wiped off the face of the planet the Guild won’t hear a single complaint out of me.” It had beaten her pretty badly, something she wasn’t used to in any opponent, but, unforgivably, it had tried to end Tyr’s life, and nearly succeeded. The Guild was going to have a field day finding salvageable materials from this one, something which she took a bit of pride in.

Tyr was barely stable, and didn’t seem like he’d be staying that way for long without real medical attention. Adaline and Orion had given him their remaining potions, which did quite a bit to stem the flow of blood, but potions were not a permanent fix. They each skinned a few Anteka, and wrapped him in the warmest layers they could find. Another three days back to Kokoto just wasn’t an option, and the day and half hike to Pokke was far too treacherous for Tyr in his condition.

The real trouble was that they weren’t on the list for the Rescue Squad. They weren’t qualified to fight whatever they’d just killed, and so the Guild wouldn’t have allowed the Squad along anyways, if the Guild had known they were there in the first place. They were somewhat beyond the designated hunting grounds for the quest they’d accepted, which had been necessary to find the Anteka herd. But out of bounds was out of bounds, and so the FRS had left them more than a day before.

“We could always flag down one of the Guild balloons,” Orion suggested.

“Or, we could think of something useful to do instead,” Adaline countered. “Isn’t there some sort of healing property in Kelbi horns?”

“You see any Kelbi around here?” Adaline knew he was right, but she didn’t want to admit that the nearest herd was probably further away than Kokoto was. “We should flag down the Guild balloon.”

It was their only real option, and Adaline cursed at herself for not having taken any lessons on wound care like her sister. The most she knew how to do were quick patches, the same as any other hunter worth their salt did. Now she had to weigh Tyr’s life against whatever punishment the guild might bring down on him. What if they wouldn’t help him when they recognized who he was? What if they took away his license entirely and he was branded a criminal for something they’d all taken a part in? She couldn’t trust them. She wouldn’t. But losing Tyr was even less of an option. “Son of a Bullfango,” she muttered. “Okay, Orion. Light the-”

“What do you think ye’re doing?” a dusty voice rang almost directly into Orion’s ear as he shuffled through his pack. Orion stumbled backwards, bumping into the cart laden with the Anteka and Tyr as he did. The red-skinned little man pointed his stick accusingly at Orion as he spoke, stroking the strands of his beard with his free hand. On his back, his little pack of goods jingled and sloshed as he stepped forward. “You think I want the Guild knowing where I am, whippersnapper?”

“You’re… you’re a Veggie Elder.” Orion had never seen one in the flesh before, but he’d heard rumors about them walking around in the lesser-known areas of the world.

“Of course I am. Do I look like another Dyuragaua to you, whippersnapper?” His shrill voice was hard on the ears, but Adaline didn’t seem to mind as she rifled through her pack rapidly. “You lookin’ for a trade, youngin?”

Adaline nodded as she pulled out various goods and set them on the ground. “I need something to help Tyr. Please, I’ll give you anything I have for a max potion, or even some herbal remedy.” She knelt behind the contents of her pack, head bowed.

Carefully, the Elder inspected each of her proffered goods. He sniffed at them, examined each under a scrutinous eye, and licked more than a fair few. Orion watched all this with curious glee, but that glee quickly turned to despair as the old man shook his head. “Fraid all you got is worth monster parts, but I’ll give you a steak for this here scale.”

“How about for these?” Orion asked, pulling out a few silver and bronze stubs from his pocket. “I’ll give you as many as you like for something that’ll help him survive the trip back to Kokoto.”

The Elder’s eyes lit up as he ambled back over to Orion with all the haste of a Diablos in heat. “Orion, what are those?” Adaline asked.

“Oh, they’re Friendship Tickets, or something like that. The Village Elder gave them to me after every few quests, told me they might come in handy.” The old man laughed to himself mischievously as he counted Orion’s tickets. “And I guess he was right.”

As if on cue, the Veggie Elder spun his pack off his back, slammed it heavily onto the ground, and then yanked out a pair of red vials. They were darker than hot drinks, and they almost looked like blood. “This here ought to do the trick,” the Elder said. “Fix him up, good as new. Now, get yourselves going! Before I have to beat you both myself!”

“We sure this stuff is safe?” Orion asked as Adaline snatched the bottles away.

“It’s the only thing we’ve got,” Adaline said as she poured one bottle after the other down Tyr’s throat. There were a few moments where nothing happened, where Adaline swore she’d have the Elder’s head for his greedy little lies, but then Tyr’s eyes shot open, glowing red. “Tyr…?”

With incredible alacrity, Tyr threw off the furs they’d draped him in and leapt onto the ground, breathing deeply. He stood for just a moment on all fours, taking in a few quick sniffs of the air. “Tigrex… about a day towards solrise,” he said in a distant voice. “We should go.”

“Tyr, are you okay?” his companions asked.

“Feeling great,” he said as he ran off down the hill to gather the brutalized Antekas. Between the two dozen or so that’d been killed, only five were worth taking a look at. Tyr carried them all by himself back to the cart, as if they were just furs. Whatever the drink had been, his muscles looked as though they’d doubled in size, and Adaline might’ve been worried if his wounds weren’t also completely gone.

For the next two days, Tyr hardly slept. He had energy like they couldn’t believe, and even Tyr couldn’t understand it. His chakra flowed freely, instantly flickering into a bright red aura when he did so much as touch the hilt of his Mohran Whisker. When they encountered a group of Baggi in their path, Tyr cut them all down before Adaline and Orion could draw their weapons. It was terrifying to watch how efficiently he killed them, his bare arms barely flexing with each swift cut.

The night before Kokoto, they all sat down around a roaring fire Tyr had built in half the time it usually took. “I need to find that Veggie Elder again,” Orion said. “That stuff would make me incredible in bed.”

“I’m sure you don’t need help there,” Adaline replied, watching Tyr do another lap around the camp. She had meant to be funny, but had only made herself melancholy. “That is, assuming you’d even want to while on this stuff.”

“What? Tyr not paying enough attention to your needs lately?”

“It’s not that. We’ve never done anything like that.”

“You what?” Orion sat bolt upright. “Hold on. You meant to tell me tha-“

“He won’t have sex unless we’re married, which is fine.” She paused for a lot longer than she thought she would while Tyr finished pitching the tent. It was fine. It had to be.

“That is just insane. So, nothing? Not even a litt-“

“No,” she said, a little too quickly to keep her mind from going where his already had. “No, and I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fine, fine. But you mark my words, if you don’t do something to eat up that energy of his, he might keep going forever.”

“I hope not. This isn’t my Tyr. I miss him being relaxed.”

“I dunno. It’s kind of nice having him like this. But maybe you just need to get him to unleash the beast between his legs.” Orion chuckled while staring up at the starlit sky. “Always seems to fix any problem a woman is having in my experience.”

“You are entirely too crass.”

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it, Princess.”

“Don’t call me that. You know I don’t like it.”

“Old habits,” Orion said with a shrug.

“And I thought I told you I didn’t want to talk about it.”

“You did, but no one ever said I didn’t want to talk about it.”

“You are just so-” Adaline began, but was cut off when Tyr sat down at the tail end of the log, pulling Adaline into his lap in almost the same motion. It was comforting to feel his strong chest and arms through her thin armor. He was so very warm; warm enough to melt away her frustrations with Orion. Warm enough that he didn’t need any covering despite the deepening cold of the night. She didn’t say anything else, couldn’t think of what else to even say. She just let them talk until she and Tyr went to bed, leaving Orion for the first watch.

It wasn’t very long after that that she came bursting out of the tent, wrapped in plain clothes and the blanket from their bed. Orion chuckled. “You know I’ll come wake you when it’s actually time.”

“Shut up,” she snapped, and then had to bury her face in the furs to keep him from seeing her tears.

“Hey, hey, whoa. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Ugh,” Adaline said, drying her eyes a bit. “It’s not about you. I’m just… I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Alright. We won’t talk about it. But if it’s bugging you that much… I can always just listen.”

She looked for his telltale smile, or for anything that might’ve indicated he was waiting to pounce, but there wasn’t anything there. “I didn’t know you had it in you,” she said.

He shrugged, but didn’t say a word.

“I can’t ever figure him out. Maybe he’s always changing because of his chakra or because of everything he’s been through, but I can’t figure him out. I’ve always had a knack for reading men, for knowing what they want, but… I’ve never gone this far with anyone. I’ve always just…” She had told Tyr all of this, but she still felt like telling Orion was somehow betraying him. Orion didn’t need to know all of this, but it felt nice to tell someone. To tell _anyone_.

“I’ve never actually cared for anyone like I do with Tyr. I’ve always tested men, and women, and everyone to see if they were worth my time, and everyone always fails. Everyone. Even my father and my sister… but if you ever tell them that, I’ll kill you myself.” Again, he didn’t laugh, didn’t smile, just nodded and kept his peace.

“But Tyr, he just… he never failed a single test. But I kept failing them. I _keep_ failing them. When he would call me out on something or refuse my advances, he always had the perfect reason, but hearing it always made me realize just how terrible I was for putting him through the test in the first place. And now that those tests are done and I’m with him I’m failing because I can’t figure out what he wants, and all I want in the world is to know everything he wants so I can give it to him. The moon, the stars, the whole world, if he asked for it. But he doesn’t ever ask for anything except for me to wait. And how am I supposed to wait to give him everything?”

She was trembling, partially from the cold, and partially from the frustration and self-pity. “He’s never been wrong… but how can it be right to keep me from giving myself to him? How can it possibly…” Her voice faded quietly into the firelight as she shivered.

“It’s a really cold night,” Orion said after he was certain she was done. “You should go back inside.”

Adaline pulled the furs tighter around herself, but didn’t move.

“Did I ever tell you the one about me and the girl in Loc Lac after the Jhen fight?” He had told anyone who would listen than story, which meant Adaline had heard it five times already, but she shook her head anyways. Orion had never forgotten who he’d told a story to before.

“So the women were throwing themselves at me, left and right, and even some from underground, I swear. I could do no wrong. No matter what I said, someone found it charming and intelligent and sexy. I could’ve had a different girl every night, but I picked just one.

“She was a spicy young thing that I’d had my eye on since before the Jhen came. Beautiful white hair, dressed like a father’s worst nightmare, and a voice that could make a man cry. She was just a vendor, sold potions and the like to Hunters, but there was only one thing in her shop that I wanted, and it was her. I’d asked her out a dozen times, invited her to any event I could think up, and a few times I was more direct than a charging Tigrex, but she would always say no.

“No, no, no. That was all I’d ever hear, but now that I was a hero she wasn’t really saying no anymore. Suddenly she was all yes. Yes, Hero, I’d love to go out with you. Yes, you do look dashing in that armor. Your place at eight? Yes, of course I’ll be there. And so I took her back to my new private suite, and when we got there she was ready to go, hotter than Sol at midday back in Fahrenn. She was more eager for it than I was. And nothing happened.”

That wasn’t how the story ended. It was supposed to end with him winking and grinning and making lewd gestures. That was how all of his stories ended, all the ones about his conquests, at least. “I had everything I wanted, but it didn’t mean a thing because I didn’t get it how I wanted it. Sounds stupid, but people are stupid, and I’m people.” He shook his head, chuckling a bit. “But, hey, don’t you tell a soul about that. If anyone knew I was people then it’d ruin my reputation.”

Adaline thought she understood, even if it didn’t fully ease her mind of her shaking. She stood up and gave Orion a small smile. It was forced, but it was the best she had. “Thanks.”

“Someone thanking me for a story,” he said as she disappeared back inside her tent. “There’s a new one…”

Tyr slept in much later than he had the entire trip. Adaline was almost ready to load him in the cart and start off without him when Tyr called out from inside their tent. “Can anyone grab me something big and fuzzy to wear? By the Fata it is cold this morning.”

“Well, glad to see someone’s back to normal,” Orion said with a smirk as he took Tyr some gear from the cart. “Would’ve hated for all the single ladies in town to get a look at you and your muscles like that.”

Adaline couldn’t look at Tyr. “Let’s just get going. I want to be back in my own bed tonight.”

But before they could go anywhere, Tyr took Adaline aside. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Last night I-“

“I shouldn’t have done that,” she interrupted. “I was jus-”

“Just being honest. You have nothing to be sorry for. I should be sorry. I-“

“Have your own wants, I know.”

“So something has to change,” they said at once. They both smiled at that.

“Adaline, if we’re going to keep it from happening again then you’re going to need something to keep you… well… satisfied.”

“But I am, Tyr. I just thought I wasn’t because I wanted to give you everything, but I-”

“Please don’t ever stop wanting that,” he whispered to her, his arms suddenly around her waist, his lips on her ear. Her cheeks flushed crimson, and she forgot whatever else she’d meant to say. “It’s about time I started doing the same.” Tyr murmured the rest of his plans into her ear, and when they rejoined Orion, Tyr still had an arm around Adaline’s waist.

“Glad to see whatever that was is done. I hope you guys like Anteka soup.”

It was a flavor they would grow tired of before winter was over, but for now it was just their final meal on a quest that had pushed the group further than expected. For Tyr, the mysterious drink had snapped that thin line and given him a taste of where he’d been. Adaline had reaffirmed her place with Tyr, and had grown more content with herself in the process. And Orion had yet another story to tell that few would believe, not that he cared if they believed it or not.


	14. Something Like Hope

Tales of the three preceded them, as rumors often did, but no rumors could match the truth. When the citizens of Fahrenn saw their princess walk through the gate with two former guardsmen, many were slack-jawed. Adaline’s bright blue hair flowed down the back of her sleek and brutal armor. Made from the red scales of the Rathalos and the black spikes that lined the Stygian Zinogre, the princess’ form-fitting battle dress showed plenty of skin, but also how deadly getting near that skin would be. Her helmet was nothing more than a dark crimson flower fashioned from the same materials, but it kept her hair out of her face and away from the blue machalite of the Rathian pendant resting above her obvious cleavage. As impressive as her armor looked, however, more eyes were locked on the switch axe strapped to her back, made from a mix of both rath wyverns, and more still on the arm of the former guard around her waist.

Tyr shrugged off their looks. The Toridcless feathers and Ray Gougarf fur of his armor had been blended together into what could’ve easily passed as normal clothing were it not for the blade on his back. The Mohran Whisker had been upgraded with Glacial Agnaktor scales and shards of the never-melting glacial core, giving the blade an edge that reflected all the colors of the world, and cut with the chill of a colorless winter. The smith had dubbed it Breath of the Leviathan, and had it not been sheathed then their companion might not’ve drawn the crowd’s attention away with his entrance.

Orion spun his Barioth daggers expertly as he walked through the crowds, flashing everyone a smile nearly as pointed as the teeth on his blades. When he finally stopped, it was easy to notice just how serrated the orange tipped blades were, and it was terrifying to think what they could do when charged with his chakra. What was more harrowing was his custom Rathalos armor. He had claws on his boots and gauntlets, an eltalite visor cut thin enough to see through, and the sheathes for his blades had been placed along his arms. So, even being last among three to step through the gates, his wyvern-like appearance and natural showmanship got him the most attention.

There to greet them was a party of familiar faces, none of which were less shocked than the crowd. Even so, the King was a better politician than he often gave himself credit for, and so he addressed the group with his best smile. “I’m glad to see that you’re all doing so well,” he said. “Welcome back home.”

Adaline looked to Tyr, since he had been elected their leader. She imagined that everyone expected her to speak, which, if she had to admit it, made her silence all the sweeter. Tyr just smiled. “I’m glad to see you well yourself, King of Fahrenn, but we can’t accept your welcome.”

A hushed murmur fell across the gathered crowd, but the others were no less stunned. Clay Claw coughed to buy time as the King did his best to recover. “I’m afraid I don’t understand your meaning, Leader of The Untitled.”

“This isn’t our home,” he said. “And you’ll have to call me Tyr. I hold no titles anymore, and I’m afraid I’m still no good with formalities.”

“It may not be your home, Tyr, but my daughter’s home will always be here.”

“Actually, Father,” Adaline said with a sad smile. “My home is with Tyr now.”

“Ridiculous,” he boomed. “You are my daughter. You have obligations to your people, to your family.”

“Sarah was always the dutiful daughter and you know that. My place isn’t here, sitting in the castle and waiting for some prince to come rescue me from my boredom.”

“I will not have this discussion with you here, Adaline.” The King raised a hand, and several knights emerged from the crowd, their weapons at the ready. “Come to the castle so that we can talk.”

Tyr took a look around, measuring their odds against a larger force with the home advantage. He glanced from face to face, and finally down to Adaline. She smiled at him then, but part of Tyr wondered just how many doubts she was having about what they needed to do. These were her people, after all, and this was the home he’d stolen her from. Still, she’d made it clear before they’d come that nostalgia and tradition were hardly how she wanted to live. So, he only had one choice.

“We will _all_ join you at the castle, King of Fahrenn.” Tyr waited for an objection, or even a contrary ruling, but something worked, because none came.

“At sunset then. I will have a feast prepared to honor your return.” With that said, the King and his men left, as did most of the crowd. There was little entertainment left if it would all be settled at supper, and many were still under the impression that Adaline was unapproachable without invitation. When the sand settled, only a handful of guards and their commander were left.

“I see you’ve done well for yourselves,” Clay Claw said. “Managed to steal a princess out from under my best team and escape all the way to Kokoto just in time for winter. Picked a name for your little group that I can’t help but hear on the lips of every other hunter at the Guild Hall because of how fast you’ve been advancing. Royally ticked off not just the King, but the Queen as well, and despite quitting the guard you’re now the princess’ only protection.” The old Melynx paused and shot Tyr a look that stunned all of her trainees. “Did I miss anything?”

“I don’t suppose word of Orion’s personal exploits made it this far yet?” Tyr asked with a grin.

“I don’t pay attention to any rumors that claim Orion could hold onto three women at once.”

“Commander!” Orion shouted, deflating. Everyone shared a good laugh, and then headed to the Commander’s house to catch up on all they’d missed. There was an exceptional amount. Hammer Maiden had followed Guard of Death’s example and summarily vanished from detection. Whether she’d gone after him, or merely gone because of him, was anyone’s guess, but more of the male recruits had complained about losing her than they did about the lanky wyverian.

Molin and Jaruk had both made it to the rank of Captain, though each had been promoted for different reasons. Oliarta had refused her own promotion, insisting that Orion would return for the position soon-enough.

“I’m starting to think,” Molin said. “That she’s actually in love with you. Gonna break poor Dervish Guard’s heart.”

“Shut your mouth,” Oliarta said as she slapped the back of Molin’s head.

“Hey, Commander! She just assaulted a superior officer!”

“So do Cephalos, One-Hit Captain. If I had to care about everything that hit you, I’d have to put the whole desert under arrest.”

“It’s good to see some things don’t change,” Tyr said with a smile.

“Fata,” Molin casually swore. “It is so weird seeing an actual smile on your face.” He received another smack for that one.

“Hey,” Jaruk said. “In all fairness, it’s a little odd. But it’s the good kind of odd, I think.”

“Better than the scowl the Queen left here with,” Molin said. “I thought she was going to tear us apart when tearing the barracks apart didn’t do the trick. Even trashed this place.” He gestured around to the immaculate quarters of the Commander. “She was a nightmare.”

“She is your Queen,” Clay Claw reminded them all. “But she was, perhaps, overzealous in her search for you, Adaline.” They shared a look which few in the room understood. “I heard that, as she was leaving, she simply grabbed the first G-Rank post available and departed without so much as a meal. Lior has never liked being here if she can help it, but she at least usually lets the city see her off. Last I heard she was heading to the southern continent, following rumors of a Kushala Daora that had been spotted down there.”

 “At least we know where we won’t be going,” Orion said as he leaned his chair back onto two legs.

“And what about Sarah and Kean? Any news from Loc Lac?” Adaline asked.

“From what I hear, the people there are certainly happy about having them,” Jaruk said. “Kean has been hunting so much that the city barely sees him, but they’re still happy to have him keeping them safe. Sarah I haven’t heard much about though.”

“She wrote to me recently,” Clay Claw said. “She wanted to make certain that you were alright, Adaline, since ‘It must be a terribly crippling disease which keeps Adaline from picking up a quill.’”

“I hadn’t realized that Kokoto would be so demanding on my time. You didn’t tell her too much, I presume?” When Clay Claw shook her head, Adaline continued. “Then I do hope you apologized to her for me.”

“You’re still suffering from that disease then?” Clay Claw asked with a grin few had seen before, to which Adaline blushed and fidgeted a bit.

“They’re visiting tomorrow,” Molin added casually, and Oliarta shot him a death glare.

“You weren’t supposed to tell them that.”

Adaline pressed herself firmly against Tyr’s chest, and he tightened his arms around her naturally to compensate. Her reaction was unexpectedly unhappy. “When will they be here?” Adaline asked, a bit of royal command leaking back to her voice.

“No one’s certain exactly when,” Oliarta said on behalf of her loudmouthed friend. “But it’s the reason your father wants to keep you here. Well, one of them. I don’t think he wants Sarah to think he’s played favorites with you.”

“Instead of thinking at what the King wants,” Clay Claw said, motioning with her paw towards the setting sol through the window. “I suggest you make your way to speak with him yourselves.”

There wasn’t much chance to ask anything during dinner. The King was entertaining guests from Dondruma, who were fascinated with the princess’ gear. They were armor designers, traveling the continent in search of inspiration for new fashions to introduce back home. Whatever the Princess was wearing they naturally assumed was the ‘cutting edge of fashion,’ and the pair laughed at their own joke, even half an hour after it was first said. As luck would have it, they were far too busy with their investigations to stick around for the entire meal, and so, during a dessert of the chef’s special Whipped Monoblos Mousse, Adaline broached the subject on everyone’s mind.

“Father, about my position with The Untitled,” she started, but stopped just as suddenly. “I understand that I’m still a princess, and I know my obligations to my people, but I’m happy with Tyr, and doing some good in the world.”

“If you knew your obligations, Adaline, we would not be having this discussion,” her father replied, lacing his fingers together as he leaned forward. “When I announced your Cleansing, suitors began lining up from every major city. Do you expect me to turn them all away just because of your infatuation with this young man?”

“It is not an infatuation,” she said, staring down the much larger man. “And I’m not going to go through with it. I’ve forsaken my titles too, to be with him.”

“You can’t choose not to be royalty, Adaline!” Her father was more furious than she’d ever seen him, and she started backwards. “You can choose to be a Hunter or a Diplomat. You can choose to pay vendors with coins or with favors. You can even choose to only see Fahrenn once a decade if you want to be like your mother, but you cannot choose not to be a princess. We are different from the rest of the world, and we have our own rules we have to abide by because of it.”

“But I don’t want that life anymore.”

“It doesn’t matter what you want!” He slammed a fist on the table this time, toppling several glasses. “Do you remember what I have always told you?”

“You’ve… told me so much. I… I…” She couldn’t think, put under the spotlight of her father’s fury.

“We are one. Whatever happens to one of us, happens to the rest. If you ever were to lose your royalty, to give it up, the rest of us would have to give it up as well. Your sister would lose her status, her marriage no longer worth anything. Our family, who have ruled peacefully over this land for centuries, would be banished from it, never to return or hold a title within it again.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Tyr said before he could think better of it.

The King’s eyes locked with Tyr’s. “It might seem so to someone with no respect or appreciation for the old ways, but these are the rules my grandfather-six-times laid down for our family to follow. My daughter might think throwing centuries away for you is worth it, but I have to think of my entire family, my guards, my people, and the war which _will_ be fought to claim them if we ever give up our home.”

No one was ready to speak after that, though Adaline found her voice first. “My home is the world,” she began. “I go wherever I’m needed, helping whoever I can. This is my oath, and to that oath I swear my name. Not my honor, for honor is not the same everywhere. Not my title, for I am Untitled. I swear my name, the last and only thing I will be called in this world.” Orion, who’d made the oath on their journey back, had never expected it to be used in such a way. It took every ounce of his former training to keep from laughing at the King’s stony expression.

“But,” she added. “I can’t be responsible for a war like that. So, I will do what I must to keep the peace.”

“Very good,” the King said. “So, you will drop this infatu-“

“No, Father. I won’t be with anyone but Tyr. No matter what the traditions dictate, they do allow me to choose whomever I want from my eligible suitors.”

“Then I expect your proposal by the morrow,” King of Fahrenn said to Tyr, his voice finally calming. “I want your intentions to marry my daughter laid out so that I can finally be rid of all these foreign dignitaries and messengers rousing me at every hour of the day.”

Adaline beamed, leaning over to kiss Tyr in what was considered a highly inappropriate way for a princess at dinner, but which suited the atmosphere perfectly. Her father politely turned his head, and Orion gave them a few claps. “So, I guess this means I have to polish my best armor then?” he asked Tyr with a grin, and was surprised when Tyr shook his head.

“There isn’t going to be a wedding, Orion.” Every face at the table fell, although each fell into a different emotion.

For the former captain, that was confusion. “Wait, you’re what?” He glanced nervously at the King and tried to chuckle. “I’m sure he’s just caught up in some sort of Nifilan thing about marriages.”

For the King, that was anger again. “What do you mean? My daughter convinced me to let her marry an unaligned mercenary only for you to deny the honor of her hand?”

 “No,” Tyr explained. “I’m not denying it, but I don’t plan on marrying your daughter anytime soon.”

For the princess that’d given up everything she was for the man who’d just rejected her, that was sadness, deep and churning at the bottom of her stomach. She couldn’t feel the chair beneath her. The color drained from her face, and all she could whisper was “Tyr…?” Adaline couldn’t understand what she’d done wrong, or even where this had come from. They’d been in such wonderful bliss the whole winter, and he hadn’t backed away from all her father’s anger, but what did it even mean if he was letting her go now?

“Adaline, you’re more precious to me than anyone has ever been, but I’ve only just gotten to know you over the past few months. I can’t dedicate this life to you without knowing you better, without seeing you in every season and proving to myself that I can make you smile no matter how sad or angry or empty you might feel. I’d gladly suffer titles to stay with you, and fight through any quest they could think up to see you smile, but this is about more than making you smile.” He brushed away a few tears from her face and gave her another small kiss. “I hate to ask you to wait any longer than you have, but I can’t get married just to satisfy some royal ritual. That’s not the kind of person I am.”

“But if you don’t then I have to get married to someone else, Tyr. I have to. I have to within a year of the qualification announcement. Please,” she begged, pressing her face against the woven fur that covered his chest. “Please, Tyr. I can’t be that selfish.”

The looks from Orion and the King only confirmed the story he’d just been told. “Is this what happened to Sarah?” he asked, eyes closed in deep thought.

“Yes,” Adaline said through stifled sobs, and Tyr, forsaking tradition entirely, pulled her into his lap. There were no objections, not even from the King. Inside Tyr’s mind, however, there were more than a few objections, which he didn’t get much time to contemplate.

“I don’t suppose we could just get really specific about the qualifications portion?” Orion asked.

“W-what?” Adaline asked back, sniffling a bit.

“So, tradition says the bride has to lay out a set of things that a person has to match up with before they can offer marriage, yeah? So, I just thought you might boost up the difficulty a bit by getting more specific, you know?” He wasn’t looking at anyone, which made it easier to think out loud. “It’d buy some time…”

“But,” Adaline objected, trying to wrap her mind around the idea. “I don’t think anyone has changed the guidelines in… three hundred years.”

“But they all had the option to, right?”

The royals pondered this for a minute, and Adaline didn’t dare let go of Tyr. The edicts were clear about exactly how long one had to choose a suitor after the qualifications were made public, assuming any were available. They had always been available before, but no one had ever bothered to ask how high the qualifications could be set. Since Adaline hadn’t made a formal announcement of her qualifications, everyone had just assumed that the standard ‘any suitor from outside the kingdom’ still stood. “It could very well work,” King of Fahrenn said. “If that is your wish, then it could work. Though I’m not certain what qualifications you plan to outline that a thousand suitors besides Tyr couldn’t meet.”

“I mean, she could just do people named Tyr?” Orion suggested.

“I don’t think we want to figure out how many people have my name,” Tyr countered.

“So then, perhaps, Hunters from Nifila?”

“I know two that’d be here faster than you could say Nifila again.”

“Well then you come up with something!”

“Can’t she marry for love?”

“Can’t be measured or confirmed, so no.”

“Then maybe only personal guards she’s had?”

“Every guard is considered her personal guard.”

“I’ll only marry a Legend…” Adaline said softly, and the room quieted enough to hear her finish. “That’ll give us enough time, won’t it?”

“Adaline,” her father said, his voice begging reason. “There are only a handful of Legends in the world. How can you expect this… Tyr to become one of them?”

“Or what if One-Armed Tolk decides to take you up on that offer?” Orion added.

“Then I might have to accept his proposal,” Adaline said, slowly sitting upright. “And Tyr will be a Legend someday, Father. I know he will.”

In her simplest white dress, Adaline addressed the city the following day. She walked onto the wide balcony that princesses and princes had used for the past six hundred years to make their qualifications known, with her father at her right side and the castle chef on her left, standing in for her mother. Flowers, vibrant and rich, had been grown along the edge, forming a wall of color to shield the princess from the dirt of the outside world. It was said that the aroma of all those blooming buds smelled different to each of the royals that experienced it, but Adaline caught nothing but their typical rich perfume, multiplied in strength by sheer numbers. Taking her place at the only break in this wall, Adaline took a breath before giving her address in a loud, clear voice, amplified by the architecture it bounced off of.

“I, Princess Adaline of Fahrenn, daughter of the King Marcus of Fahrenn, am here today to formally announce what qualifications my suitors must possess to be worthy of joining our great line with their own. These qualifications, which are mine and mine alone to decide, have I given to my father, who has deemed them worthy, and to the gods, who have objected not. Thusly it is now to you, my friends and family, my servants and dearest subjects, that I give my qualifications to spread across the land and sea, the sky and even the winds, to all places that words can reach in this world. I warn those of you gathered, however, that I am no ordinary princess, and so the things which I ask of the one who is to be my second half are not ordinary either.

“When I watched my sister give her qualifications, I imagined that they would be the same as my own. Those that she gave were the time-honored qualifications that my father gave at his announcement, his mother and uncle before him, my grandmother’s mother, and all the members of my family since first the we claimed our rule over Fahrenn. When my sister chose her husband and married him, I smiled at her fortune in having found such a brave and courageous companion from such a respected bloodline. Yet it was then I also realized that I could not count on luck or tradition to bring me happiness. The gods do not favor a family so much as they do my own without asking for sacrifice.

“So, for my Cleansing I went to Kokoto, and spent the winter there with a people so different from my own that I could hardly recognize that we lived on the same continent, much less hunted the same wyverns. My time abroad gave me insight into the world, and the things which make marriage both a great honor and an infinite duty that I cannot take lightly if I am to ever be satisfied with my choice. It is for all these reasons and more that my qualifications will be as follows.”

Adaline took a deep, slow breath, scanning the crowd of restless and rapt faces for Tyr. She caught sight of him near the front, and smiled when she glimpsed his own small smirk, the one he wore when he knew something no one else in the room did. It reassured her, just seeing him, that she wouldn’t regret the chance she was about to take.

“My suitor will be a male, and he will have to be a Legendary Hunter,” she said, and if the crowd found it incredible at all they hid it beneath a nervous politeness people only found when they knew doing anything else would cost them dearly. “Such is my will, and so it shall be. Go now, those of you who love and care for Fahrenn. Go and spread these words to all who listen, and may the gods guide you to fortune.”

Although Adaline was smiling, and the crowd was cheering as enthusiastically as crowds did during excitement of any kind, there were a few who weren’t so content with the Princess’ speech. “She certainly has outdone herself,” the white-clad hunter said, glancing sideways at his female companion.

“That she has,” the woman replied, twirling a large arrow expertly between her delicate fingers. “But I can’t imagine what she’s thinking with an announcement like that, unless she never wants to be married.”

“Maybe she knows something that we don’t,” he said.

“Or maybe she’s just looking to cause a scene,” she said, putting the arrow back into its quiver. “Either way, I hope father won’t be too mad about us sneaking in during the announcement.” Without missing a beat, Sarah brushed a long lock of blue hair out of her face, running it back behind her ear so that the end still lightly brushed the pouch at her waist.

“Since I’ll be the first qualified suitor to approach, I doubt he’ll be too displeased,” Kean said with a smirk just for his lovely wife.

“You’re not a Legend yet, dear. And don’t think for a second that you’d be allowed to marry my sister after marrying me.”

“I wouldn’t marry your sister for ten million zenny.”

“Good, because that’s about how much she’s worth.” If Kean had been a greedy man, this might’ve given him pause, may have even turned some cogs in his mind about how simple it would be to be rid of one princess and then enjoy the company of another, but he was more than content with Sarah. What he was not so content with was seeing Adaline sitting on Tyr’s lap when they entered into her room. There was no way he’d become a Legend in the last few months, especially not after being expelled from the city so soon after his return. Yet there they were, and it shocked him how little either seemed to care. Tyr and Adaline, on the other hand, were just as shocked with Sarah’s appearance.

The once perfect image of a woman content to sit on a throne had undergone a major reconstruction. Although she still wore a flowing skirt and simple tunic, both were now made from a mix of monster fur and metallic threads, giving her otherwise simple outfit a dangerous sparkle. Her ears were pierced with no ordinary earrings, but chakra-enhancing gems in the shape of arrows which drastically increased the range and power of each shot she might fire from her elegant bow. That bow was carved from the horn of a White Monoblos, and combined with rainbow ore so that its color changed based on one’s viewing angle. Her arrows were tipped with beautiful Bright Hypnocatrice feathers, giving a bright blush of pink and blue just behind her shoulder. As she smiled and waved to the pair with her fingerless scaled gloves, Sarah couldn’t help but feel a distant twinge in the bottom of her stomach, though she tried to brush it off as hunger.

Adaline jumped to her feet. “Sarah!” she exclaimed, rushing over to take in the spectacle. “You look gorgeous!”

“Thank you, Adaline. Your dress is beautiful.”

“Oh, thank you,” she smiled. “I should have worn a longer dress.”

“And just what were you thinking with your qualification? A Legend?” Sarah sounded more than bit upset. “I don’t suppose you have your eye on the Sword Saint, or even that gunner, Duo?”

“Actually,” she drew out the word slowly, turning back towards her only love. “I’m planning on marrying Tyr.”

As though she hadn’t noticed him before, Sarah politely smiled and stepped past her sister. “Tyr,” she said, lost for a second at how much he’d changed. Not only did it look like his chakra was recovering nicely, but he was stronger than when they’d met, and even more confident in himself. The way he smiled when she said his name was more than evidence of that. “I didn’t know that you had made enough of a name for yourself to be considered a Legend. Normally word would have reached Loc Lac by now. Unless this is as recent as the past week?”

“I haven’t,” he replied with a shrug. “But Adaline seems to think that I have what it takes to become one. I’d be more inclined to agree with her if I were able to fight at my full potential by now. I still can’t redden my chakra yet.”

“Potential is not something measured by the color of one’s spirit,” she said, a quote from a hunter’s manual everyone in the room had read. “But rather by the will of that spirit to conquer its enemies.” Tyr smiled again, that knowing smile she remembered from Nifila. Adaline drew herself around Tyr’s arm, and Sarah’s attention snapped to her sister once more. “Speaking of which, you never wrote to me once all winter. I thought you were sick.”

“I’m sorry. I was so busy in Kokoto, hunting with Tyr and Orion. And, to be honest, I didn’t want to risk Lior finding out where I was.” As Adaline and Tyr both shared the stories of their exploits, the couples settled into the room. Kean and Sarah sat in the chairs, while Adaline insisted on being in Tyr’s lap on the edge of the bed. Sarah wouldn’t have minded so much if Adaline hadn’t just announced her intentions to marry someone less than an hour before. It had been a ploy to make certain that person was Tyr, but since it wasn’t actually certain it seemed wrong to her.

“So,” Kean said as they finished. “You were the Kokoto Three? I find it incredible that three hunters at your skill level could do all of those things they say you did. Adaline’s training alone seems like it would’ve taken all winter.”

Tyr and his princess exchanged a small look, and then they shrugged simultaneously. It was Tyr who spoke though. “She was a natural with the Switch Axe. There wasn’t much for me to teach her.”

“Much the same as Sarah and her bow then,” Kean added proudly. “When she approached me after the Jhen hunt and asked for training I almost denied her, but I could feel the determination in her chakra. She’s turned out quite gifted, after I got a few silly notions out of her head.”

“What silly notions might those be?” Tyr asked. His arm muscles had tensed, much to Adaline’s surprise, but she told herself that it was only that the rivalry between Tyr and Kean had never really been settled. She pressed herself back into his embrace, a quiet reminder that she was on his side.

“That a fight was like a dance, or that weapon proficiency was based on some sort of calling rather body type and common sense.”

“Yet you said yourself that she was a natural at the bow.”

“And she was, which was obvious when I looked at her. Anyone with Sarah’s constitution, dexterity, and eye for detail would naturally be gifted at a ranged weapon that required fast, precise movements. I didn’t pick the saber because I found it attractive, but rather because my personal assessment of my fighting ability picked it for me.”

“I suppose you picked Sarah based on the same system,” Tyr countered, and the hint of ferocity hidden in his voice tingled the hairs on the back of Adaline’s neck.

“She’s beautiful, well-mannered, intelligent, and from a respected family line,” Kean said, the razor edge in his voice coming through much clearer than Tyr’s. “But I suppose your attraction to Adaline is about some sort of cosmic alignment of chakra, rather than her personality.”

The girls, caught between two warring spirits as strong as Tyr and Kean, stayed silent. Adaline stole glances with Sarah, the two of them comparing some kind of invisible notes that only women could read in each other’s faces. The boys, meanwhile, battled on several levels below the vocal, but escalation demanded more. “Would you care to go on a hunt with us, Kean? The Untitled are in search of a fourth and I’m certain that your expertise in all matters of practical choice would benefit us greatly.”

“I’ll only offer my expertise after we go on a couples’ hunt,” Kean said. “A friendly game to see who can slay a wyvern the fastest.”

“That sounds like a great idea. We’ll make certain that it’s nothing too hard. I saw a posting for a quest called Four Horns when we were at the Guard Post.”

“Naturally, then.” Kean turned his attention to Sarah. “Dearest, you’ll want to prepare paralysis shots for this quest, and poison is highly effective against the Blos as well.”

“Yes, Kean,” Sarah said, stealing a glance to Tyr, who was shaking his head. Whether in disgust, disappointment, or just plain disagreement, she couldn’t tell. He seemed like was about to say something, but when his eyes met hers he must’ve thought better of it. Her husband turned and left, and Sarah forced herself not to linger in those distant bluzel eyes.


	15. The Lark and the Wind

There had been more than a few postings of Diablos quests when they took the one they were looking for from the Quest Wall. Kean had taken the initiative in signing the two groups up himself, though no one was thinking about who signed the papers as all four were trekking through the desert together, silent as could be. They stayed a few meters apart from each other, making certain that a sudden Blos appearance could only get one of them at a time.

Although the heat was oppressive, Sarah felt little of it thanks to her armor, which had been gemmed with decorations that chilled her chakra to keep her body temperature regulated. As such, the cool drinks in her pouch were simply spares should anyone else require them. She couldn’t help but look over at Tyr and think of how different he looked. His casual mixed set suited him, she thought, in a way that Adaline’s far-too revealing armor suited her as well. He looked handsome, and she was reminded of her first night back home when Adaline had said something similar. Kean’s voice snapped her attention away and over to a distant Blos.

At the same time, Tyr and Adaline took off in another direction, apparently headed for a second Diablos. With no time to waste if she was going to keep her husband happy, Sarah whipped out her bow and a paralyzing vial of arrow coating. She slammed the vial into the slot, and a tiny blade tore through the cap, while keeping the toxins inside. When they were close enough for her shots to make a noticeable impact, Sarah notched an arrow with practiced ease, the draw of the string loosing some of the paralytic toxin in a small burst that coated the arrow’s tip. She channeled her chakra into that arrow, giving it power, speed and thinning the arrow to increase its piercing capability; when she let it fly it flew straight through the Blos’s thick carapace and out the other side.

Without waiting for Kean to get into range, Sarah fired a second arrow, and then a third, each arrow creating another small hole and filling the wyvern’s blood with the paralytic coating. The Blos might’ve thought to charge its assailant if it could’ve found her soon enough, but Kean’s own set was designed to make certain that didn’t happen. Specifically, he wore a charm that made him a beacon, one that focused any monster’s attention on him. From a distance, and with her enemy focused elsewhere, she could better gauge how well Kean was faring, and when, or even if, he would need her to fire her specially designed recovery coatings. It was a coating that used powder instead of liquid, and was nearly useless at the range she was at, but that was a problem very easily solved.

It was tempting for her to check and see how her sister was doing with her own fight. She wondered at Adaline’s skill level, given that they had begun training at nearly the same time. Who had a superior training style? Had Adaline received tutelage from a Switch Axe master like Sarah had with the Bow? Sarah was so lost in thought that the Blos was halfway to her by the time she noticed it was moving at all.

With all the dexterity that Kean had boasted of, Sarah raced to her right, drawing another shot as she checked the level of paralyze coating left in the bottle. She had just enough to fire a final volley, so instead of charging her chakra into a narrow band, she sliced it through the arrow lengthwise. When the Blos curved its path to match hers, Sarah stopped herself on a dime and kicked backward. The twin-horned wyvern flew past her, flinging sand high into the air as Sarah let her arrow loose, and the force of the string splintered her arrow into five even sections.

This volley was enough to cripple the Blos again. It struggled against the toxins while Sarah calmly loaded a bottle of poison coating and began firing, trading distance for increased damage and potency. If it could have, Sarah knew the Blos would’ve roared in a mix of anger and pain, but the introduction of health-sapping venom into its system would hopefully end its life before it had to chance to move again. She felt sorry for the beast, and her fingers hesitated for just a second before pulling each new arrow to make certain that she hurt it no more than necessary. Perhaps it would cost them their game, but at least Sarah would save some of herself in doing so.

Kean felt no such hesitation, and the reckless abandon which he threw into every blow was evidence enough of that. His spikes gave him the distinct advantage over even a dual blade wielder when it came to speed of strikes, but he focused so much on inflicting hits to a monster’s vulnerable spots that he missed out on half of the openings available to him. Sarah was no expert, but she couldn’t help but feel like he was holding himself back, and yet she would defer to Kean whenever he gave instructions or advice. It simply wasn’t her nature to disagree with her husband, because his view of the world was so rigid that it was useless trying to convince him of something contrary to what he was certain of. Luckily for Sarah, he had little concept of how a bow actually worked and left her specific choices in battle up to her.

A short while later, the Blos coughed its final breath and Sarah had her bow folded and stowed before it hit the ground. Kean gave the beast a final thrust, just to make certain of its lifelessness before he allowed himself to grab his carving knife. As he pulled a fang from the wyvern’s mouth, Adaline’s voice rang out from the tail. “It’s about time. We were beginning to think you’d need some help.”

“How long have you been done?” Kean asked, panting slightly.

“About two minutes,” Tyr chimed in from where he was sitting atop a nearby dune.

Sarah smiled to herself at how effortless Tyr made the achievement sound. “Congratulations,” she said before her husband could retort. “I suppose this means you’ve proven yourselves to be a better team than Kean and I against the Diablos.”

“I suppose they have,” Kean said, sheathing his saber roughly. “We should be getting back to the castle, and tomorrow I’ll have to observe your hunting so I can help with your decision on a fourth member.”

Tyr smiled as Adaline moved up, leaned herself against him, and gave him a kiss. Sarah felt like she should do the same, but Kean’s armor had often made that difficult in the past, and so she settled for watching the other two. She even felt a twinge of sickness when Tyr’s strong arm stayed around her sister’s waist as they walked backed home. Kean whispered something to her which she didn’t catch at first, but which she hardly needed to in order to understand.

“… no matter how many battles it takes. I’ll do it. For you, Sarah.”

“Kean, you don’t need to be a Legend for me to care for you.”

“I must be certain,” he said, eyeing the other two. “That you never feel like you have less than her. If she is going to marry a Legend, then I will make certain you have nothing less for your husband.”

He never understood that he was doing it for himself, or that they shouldn’t care what Adaline had. Sarah knew that she was more responsible than her sister, that she was every bit as beautiful, and even that her father preferred to have Sarah entertain foreign dignitaries whenever possible. She’d been given gifts of beautiful dresses and stunning jewelry, allowed the freedom to go to any city she wanted at a moment’s notice, and was always praised as an exemplary student. She’d even been the first to marry because of how many requests her father had received. There wasn’t any doubt in her mind that Sarah had always been her father’s favorite child, the favorite of not just Fahrenn, but Loc Lac too, and yet her eyes never strayed from the arm around her sister’s waist.

~

The arena crowd was booming for a lot of reasons that day. Not only was one of their princesses going to compete for the first time, but rumor had it that her squad was looking to recruit a fourth member based on arena performance. As with all rumors in Fahrenn, it was taken as an absolute. Every hunter in the city was there that day, and so time limits had to be strictly enforced in order to ensure everyone got their fair turn. City guards that wanted to keep their jobs had been forbidden from participating, and those few who were there for their own entertainment had been asked to wait until the next day. There was a waiting list half a kilometer long.

The Untitled walked out into the arena at the crack of dawn, the stadium packed with roaring citizens despite the early hour. Tyr had missed this, and both of his compatriots could see it in his grin. They waved in unison, letting the thunderous applause reverberate through their very souls. Although Adaline had been the center of attention many times before, the arena had a way of amplifying that attention to a magnitude that even her qualification ceremony hadn’t quite managed. She whipped out her switch axe as the gates opened, almost nervous. As good as she and Tyr had been yesterday, today had to be flawless.

Where Kean had managed to get a Brachydios on such short notice was anyone’s guess, but the blue brute wyvern was a rather impressive opponent. Like many brutes, it had evolved to fight most effectively with its head, which had grown a jutting protrusion covered in a naturally green secretion. If the rumors could be taken as an absolute, that liquid was much like the compound in Adaline’s switch axe phials – it exploded when agitated sufficiently. This particular brute had not just specialized in its head, however, as both arms came to large nubs that mimicked its horn. It kicked at the sand beneath its feet curiously before it noticed the trio.

Sarah had stopped holding her breath in the arena a long time ago, it seemed to her, but it had only been a few months. Up in the royal box with her father and husband, she couldn’t have been safer. Even if it had been the Rajang, or a Rathalos, if any monster so much as pointed its mouth in their direction then the gunning guardsmen would put it down. Yet, watching the fight she found herself sitting forward, her heart racing at every near miss.

Kean, meanwhile, observed the fight with folded hands, trying to find gaps in The Untitled’s fighting style that could be fixed. To his great disappointment, there wasn’t much to improve upon. Tyr had all the fluid grace that Kean had heard great katana wielders possessed. His slashes were controlled and powerful, and he could Fade Slash in any direction, not just the standard three. Even against an opponent he’d never faced before, he took almost no time at all to adapt his technique into something both effective and practical, even with the limited chakra he was fighting with. Then again, Kean reminded himself, the longsword really only had so many options.

Orion and Adaline were much too flashy to be the most-effective fighters, but since their styles seldom crossed paths with each other, or with Tyr, Kean mostly just had to account for the spaces they were taking up. Adaline and her acrobatic maneuvers had her flying through the air more often than not, keeping her well above where most weapons would be. With Orion almost always in the same place, or trying to get back to that place when he was finally flung free from it, there was little-to-no chance of any other class interrupting him either. The only real issue with their dynamic would be those monsters where air and back strikes would be meaningless, such as the Gravios. With those being the rarity, however, Kean had to consider the other options.

Anyone with a shield would simply slow down their endless onslaught. Any weapons heavy-enough to bludgeon a wyvern would likely end up getting in Tyr or Adaline’s way, and any weapon they already had would be a superfluous addition. Kean’s own style could’ve helped them significantly, provided that Tyr knew his place as well as he seemed to. Still, Kean wasn’t about to join any group, so there was only one option left.

They needed a distance striker. It was the obvious choice. Someone with support capabilities that could hold an opponent still or target those few areas that their slashing and piercing attacks couldn’t reach. It would also fit nicely into their setup without requiring the group to adapt much. Mechanically speaking, in fact, a gunner was the only option which made sense. That was the beauty of gunners though, they could fit into almost any team.

Having decided this moments before the Brachydios fell, he leaned back into his chair and clapped just a few times while the crowd did their typical cheering. “They’re certainly better than I expected them to be,” Kean said to his wife as she applauded enthusiastically. “But I think that a ranged support member would finish their roster most-effectively.”

Sarah looked as though she was considering the option, which was hardly necessary. “I think you’re right, my dear. Is there a particular type of weapon which you think they might prefer over the others?”

“The light bowgun would best suit their rapid attack style.”

“Not the bow?” she asked. It was typical of her to think of the bow as a ranged weapon suiting anything, just as those with a hammer saw every problem as one you could smash.

“The bow is too slow for their style. Since the arrows take time to hit their target, any movement from the wyvern, Adaline, or even Tyr could mess up a well-aimed shot.”

“Yes, and a good archer knows how to compensate for that. Bowguns aren’t instant hits either.”

“But the shots do travel faster for those who don’t have your piercing, my love.”

He was right, and she knew it, but she had seen such a chance for a bow to work with their setup. Adaline provided wind speed and direction with her hair and clothing midair, which was less useful for bowgunners unless they were at a close enough distance to appreciate the same information, thus negating their advantage. Orion’s methods could be greatly assisted with arrow-sized rungs to climb with, something which a bowgunner could never hope to provide. Tyr, regrettably, wouldn’t have been affected by the presence of an archer, but at least he wouldn’t have to worry about the explosive and bursting shots that some bowgunners would bring to the table.

“Why not a heavy bowgun?” she asked.

“Too much of a distraction. A slow-moving gunner would bring most enemies to themselves, taking away valuable time for no benefit.”

“What about a stealth build?”

“What about it?”

“It would keep them from distracting the monsters, wouldn’t it?”

“While taking away from their own damage output significantly, yes.”

“I didn’t know that they needed any help in the damage department.”

“Sarah, my love” Kean said, oddly without his usual condescension. “Would you like to check on your sister? You look worried.”

Sarah hadn’t even realized that she’d been gripping the edge of her seat until she let it go. Her face flushed slightly.

“No need to check on us,” Adaline said as the Untitled entered “What did you think of our performance, Kean?”

“It was a good show, to be certain. The crowd was quite taken with you.” Tyr stepped into sight then, his hand on the small of Adaline’s back. “And you are a worthier rival than I’ve given you credit for. Your technique is quite admirable given your weapon choice.”

“Thank you, Kean. I only wish I had the patience to use a weapon as small as your saber.”

“There is a reason that not all of us are royalty.” Somewhere in the background the next fight was announced, but no one was paying attention. “As for your team, I do believe I’ve found how to fill the gap I observed.”

“Enlighten us,” Tyr replied with a smile Kean didn’t understand.

“A bowgun would be best. A light bowgun, specifically, to keep up with your blitzkrieg style.” Tyr’s grin had only widened, but Adaline’s expression had turned sour. “Are you opposed to gunners, Adaline?”

“Not at all,” Tyr said, breaking formal tradition again. “We just had a bet on what you’d say.”

“He won. And I am highly disappointed that you don’t see the advantages of a hunting horn.”

“I do not see them because there are none,” Kean retorted.

“Besides the knockouts, and the exhaust, and the power, and them being incredibly useful for any group thanks to the songs.”

“They would be almost entirely support in a group like yours. You don’t leave openings wide-enough for them to do half of what you listed. Besides that, the LBG’s rapid fire capabilities, especially with elemental shots, more than makes up for the potential boosts most horns wou-.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Adaline concluded, apparently melting into Tyr and his bad habits. Sarah remembered how she’d felt that comfortable in his arms. She hadn’t actually melted – hadn’t let herself – but she’d felt as though she could’ve. Together with Adaline though, Tyr was having the exact opposite effect on both Sarah and her husband.

“At least your leader has seen reason,” Kean said, turning his eyes to the fight in the arena center.

“Actually,” Tyr said, snapping Kean’s attention back. “I just knew you were going to say it. Honestly, I don’t really know what would be good for us. That’s why we’re holding this whole event instead of sending people home right now.” Sarah leaned forwards, half-smiling behind her husband’s back. “I’ll know what we need when I see it.”

Kean was more than a bit put off. Tyr wasn’t just thoughtless, he was openly so. Whether it was his ignorance, his stubborn will, or something else, Kean didn’t know, but he had to put an end to it. “Tyr, if you won’t take my advice and narrow the field, then it is entirely likely we’ll be here the entire day.”

“You can leave anytime you like, Kean. I’ll be here as long as it takes.”

They were words Tyr would come to regret. The arena was largely uneventful after The Untitled made their appearance, and even worse was that every hunter looked towards the royal booth when they were done, as if expecting some indication of how well they performed. Tyr did his best to wave to each of them, which he hoped wasn’t too encouraging, but it seemed rude to him to simply sit there and clap a few times like the others. By midday, however, his arms were getting tired, and his stomach growled audibly for food. Without missing a beat, Adaline and Sarah had both snapped their fingers. Sarah graciously allowed Adaline to order them all something to eat while she provided Tyr with one of her own energy drinks.

Lunch only provided so much of a distraction, and when it was over it seemed there was an even greater lull. It wasn’t that none of the hunters were skilled, or even that they hadn’t put on a great show, but everyone was getting tired of watching with nothing else to do. Tyr’s main issue was that he’d seen almost every single competitor before. He knew that most of them would never be compatible with his group, whether it was their personality or their style. But what could he do? What if they’d changed? What if he saw something different today? And yet no one surprised him, so he found himself bored.

The arena had never failed to entertain him when he was a guard – when his chakra was still in pieces – and so he’d thought it could hold him through the day. But as sol dragged itself through the sky, and hunter after hunter competed for his attention, it took away everything that had held him there at all. More than once, he found himself staring at Adaline instead of the arena floor, and it took a little longer each time for him to remember he had to look away. But when he looked back to the arena, he had to fight to keep himself from yawning.

It was during the twilight hour - when the city, in its blaze of color, began to quiet, and most had left the arena - that a middle-aged wyverian hunter walked out into the arena. He wielded a longsword and wore the clothes of a far-eastern hunter, perhaps he was from Yukumo or the Eastern Continent, but it was impossible to tell. What was quite easy to tell was that he wore his katana at his side rather than on his back, the blade sticking out behind him like a stiff tail. Tyr’s boredom was gone in an instant.

“Kean,” Tyr said, stepping to the ledge to get a better view. “Do you suppose he practices the Lightning Draw or just the standard Eastern style?”

“No matter which it is, both styles would hardly be an addition to your team.” Kean examined the older man thoughtfully. “Even if it is impressive that he thinks he could be at his age.”

“Age is not a factor in a hunt,” Tyr said as the Eastern hunter looked directly at him.

“You are the Former Guardian of Nifila,” the man called up, and the crowd fell silent. There was a power to his voice that rang through distant memories. “Leader of The Untitled.”

“It’s just Tyr now. And you are?”

There was a moment, perhaps of hesitation, or perhaps to let Tyr find that memory he was searching for. “I am called many things,” the man said. “But only one that is worth repeating.”

Tyr smiled, and so did the distant figure in the center of the sands. A second katana would certainly take some work to fit in. “I would love to hear it.”

“Then listen.” The older hunter nodded his head, which the announcer took as a signal to release his opponent. A Brachydios lumbered in, much to everyone’s surprise, testing the sand like its cousin had before. Tyr’s grin grew wide.

“He’s got style,” Tyr said. “I think we might have our winner.”

“You must be kidding,” Kean said as the hunter lowered his stance, one hand on his hilt and the second below the guard on its sheath. “He wouldn’t benefit the group any more than a dual blade user. The power helps, but a support hunter is what you lack, not some…”

“Legend.” Everyone gave Tyr a hard look. “He’s the Sword Saint.”

There wasn’t an eye in the royal box that didn’t fly back to the arena center. “It can’t be,” Adaline said, already on her feet and next to Tyr. “The Sword Saint hasn’t made such a public appearance since he became a Legend.”

“Well,” Sarah said as she joined them at the railing. “He must have a reason to now.” Just as she said it, the Brachydios lunged. In less time than a blink, with one fluid movement, the Sword Saint leapt past the brute’s attack. The Legend whipped himself around in midair, his blade slicing cleanly into the wyvern’s hide before being slid back into its starting position. Even Kean stood up then.

As the Sword Saint landed, the Brachy had already turned around, and the giant beast once again slammed slime-coated fists into the sand. The Sword Saint spun back, cut, and sheathed his blade all in a single motion, repeating the evasive-attack with each new blow. The Brachydios let out a roar that stunned its opponent. As the Legend struggled through the echoes, the brute slammed its giant horn downwards, but it hit nothing but sand. The wyverian hunter was rushing up it’s skull as the explosive slime seeped into the arena floor.

As the Brachy flung its head back, the Sword Saint flipped himself over, slashing across its back before landing heavily. He sprung past the beast’s legs as it tried to turn itself, delivering twin cuts. His blade was so seldom out of its sheathe that even as the Legend cut upwards with a third strike into the tail, Tyr still couldn’t make out what materials it was made from. With a slam of its mace-like tail, the Brachydios knocked a cloud of dust into the air. That obstructed the view of the crowd, but it also highlighted the flashes of red accompanying every hit that the Sword Saint delivered.

“He’s focused his armor around critical draw strikes,” Kean said, hardly able to hear his own words over the roar of the crowd. “And even when he should be vulnerable to a strike he is attacking.” The dust settled, and the Sword Saint’s blade whipped against the horn of his opponent, cutting deeply. “That’s a level of Quick Sheathe I didn’t know was possible. Especially with a longsword…” The distance between himself and the Legendary Hunters seemed to grow infinitely wide. Another swipe, another clean counter. Every move his opponent made, besides the roars, was used in his favor. But he saw a weakness.

When the Sword Saint moved, he wasn’t as fast as Kean could be. He was deliberate, but he wasn’t untouchable. That much was proven as he stepped too close to an explosive puddle and was rocketed sideways by the blast. The wyverian recovered and spin-slashed his way out of the follow-up, but he wasn’t as untouchable as Asuza had been. The gulf narrowed.

“He doesn’t waste a movement.” The others were all fascinated with him, but the crowd was in love. Another near miss with the Brachy’s tail, only for it to end up rolling along the sandy floor, had them screaming for more. Another incredible leap through the air towards his enemy and they gasped. The slash lopped off the brute’s horn in an explosive flash that sent the Legend rolling, but he was on his feet before the wyvern knew how to respond.

It must have dawned on someone in the crowd, because soon there were murmurs running rampant through the stadium beneath the shouting. A soft roar spread like wildfire while the Sword Saint battled the Brachydios with practiced ease. By the time it reached the royal box, Tyr was grinning from ear to ear, and Kean was more confident than ever. “My lords and ladies,” a guard said said over the crowd. “It’s him. It’s the Sword Saint.” The comment was almost too late.

Lowering himself into a wider stance, the Legend waited for the limping wyvern to pounce again. This time, instead of bounding away or past the attack, he lowered himself further and slashed into the attack. Metal met slime-covered scale, tore through and simultaneously deflected the blow just enough so that it landed a foot away. The Legend spun away from the dying explosion. The blow must have shattered something inside the Brachydios’ body, because it simply slumped down to the ground. The crowd, expecting some incredible finishing display, was met with only a slow sheathing, and a pause just before the final click, which rang out like a gunshot.

Tyr was the first to begin applauding, clapping so hard that it startled Adaline, who’d been so wrapped up in the fight she’d forgotten to breathe. Soon, everyone was applauding, whistling, and hollering as well, and Kean was making his way down towards the arena, pushing citizens out of his way. His wife, sister, and rival followed suit, with only the King staying behind in his booth.

“Honored Sword Saint,” Kean began, bowing as he approached the Legend. “Let me be the first to welcome you to Fahrenn.”

“Not the first, Blood Thorn Prince, though first in other paths.” He spoke with a heavy voice, lined deep with age and experience. The thusly named Legend turned his attention from the royal’s outstretched hand and bowed his head to Tyr. “You take up more of the world than you once did.”

“I am surprised that you remember me. But I remember you, Kensei.” Kean had never heard the term before, and by the time it clicked why he could do nothing to stop it. Tyr had just addressed Legend by name. “What brings you to Fahrenn?”

“Rumors of a rising star returning to the city which it fell to,” Kensei said. “The tale of those with only names, one which rings true to my ears.”

“We would be honored with your presence,” Tyr said. Orion, at the same moment, nearly tripped as he rushed out to join them, since he’d been sitting with the guards.

“Tyr!” Orion shouted, apparently unaware of his proximity to the group. “This guy, he’s…”

“Going to be joining us as our fourth,” Tyr finished, letting Orion catch his breath. “His name is Kensei.”

“It is a great honor.” Kensei bowed his head to those assembled, many of whom were far from comfortable with being able to call a Legend by their name to their face. Addressing a guard or a member of the royalty informally had been hard enough for some of them. But to call a Legend by just their name? It felt wrong, but it would’ve been worse to offend him if he was going to be Untitled.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Tyr announced to the crowd. “This is Kensei, and he has proven himself the victor in our little competition.” It gave him no small pleasure to be done with that responsibility, although he knew there would be unhappy hunters who had yet to fight. On top of that, the confusion that ran rampant through the stands was almost physical, and certainly audible. If not the legendary Sword Saint, then who was this Kensei that grabbed the royals’ attention? Few would ever find out.

“Thank you all for coming.”

Kensei was one of the most respected and respectful of the Legends in the world. He spoke in carefully crafted sentences that sounded like riddles to most, but Tyr seemed perfectly at home chatting away with the foreign hunter. The two spoke for hours at a time, and oftentimes Sarah or Orion would simply stop trying to understand them in favor of listening to the beautiful way in which Kensei spoke instead. Kean, to the best of his abilities, would also converse with the Legendary Sword Saint, but found it a taxing endeavor.

Kensei didn’t care to tell the stories of his former hunts, nor did he talk about politics, religion, gambling, monsters, fighting techniques, armor skills, weaponry, or any of the many subjects that hunters regularly discussed. What he did talk about covered gentler subjects like art, architecture, language, history, science, and especially philosophy, a subject in which he and Tyr had much in common. The two of them spoke so much and so often that Adaline was beginning to get jealous by the third day.

“I understand that he’s a Legend,” she said as they settled into her bed for the evening. “But you’re _my_ Legend.” Since the announcement, she had taken to calling him ‘her Legend.’ It was a bit of caution that came from her more superstitious side, but Tyr hardly minded.

“I’m sorry, Addy. It’s just that he’s always been a hero to me. Not because he’s a Legend, but back when I saw him walk through Nifila all those years ago I knew that he hunted for the same reasons I did. I’d never met anyone who hunted for those reasons before. It was always power, or protecting people, or fashion or…” He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling while Adaline snuggled her bare form against his. “I know I probably sound like I’m some sort of Legendite, but when I put the pieces together I couldn’t believe Kensei was the Sword Saint. He really inspired me back then.”

“Well, you inspire me, Tyr,” she whispered as she trailed her nails down along his chest.

He shook his head with a smile, then kissed her forehead and squeezed her close. “If you were any sweeter I’d have to use you as Arzuros bait.”

Instead of responding, Adaline just let her hand slide down beneath the covers as she kissed his neck.

Just outside their door, Sarah could never tell exactly what was happening. She could only hear the noises. Some of them were soft and meant to be hidden, others unabashedly passionate as they tore through the chill of the night air. Every night since she returned she heard those sounds, and every night her heart thudded with fear and desire.

Kean was an excellent lover and husband. He was powerful, eager, and had boundless stamina. He made certain that she was always satisfied, comfortable, happy. He did everything right, but still she found herself outside Adaline’s door, her ear pressed to the black dragonwood. Her eyes closed, and she let herself melt at each heavy sigh, tense with every small cry, and shiver at the cold which never seemed to calm her. “Why,” she whispered to the wood, her only comfort. “Oh gods, why?”

“They say…” Kensei’s voice startled her so much that she had to cover her mouth to keep from shouting. “Even the tiniest flame glows brightest at its base.”

Flushed from what she felt was head to toe, Sarah turned slowly to face him and then walked deliberately past him before she could respond. “I… I don’t understand,” she said in a whisper that only the night would allow for conversation.

Kensei followed her, even without prompt. “All things, from the thoughtless huskberry to the Great Mountain Dragon know where Sol is in the sky, yet none of them know the winds before they blow. How then, do you suppose the lark flies?”

“It must know the winds?”

“To follow is not to know the method but to trust in the path one takes,” Kensei said as they passed the kitchens, empty of even the most dedicated students of the culinary arts. “The wind beneath her wings, is it meant for her? She cannot know if she does not let it take her.”

“Kensei,” she sighed, unable to grasp at such metaphors even in her best state of mind. “I wish that I could understand what it is you’re trying to tell me.”

“You will,” he said as they stopped outside the gardens. “Inevitably, all who seek answers find them, though not all answers are happy ones.”

The night sky was beautiful and vast, blanketed with stars that formed the northern constellations. Sarah had always found the Kirin beautiful, a dozen stars that formed the four-legged elder dragon. It was so vastly different from the other elder dragons she’d heard of. A white-maned, four-legged beast with a single glinting horn, charged with electric energy, that galloped across the sky. She wished it could take her with it, far away from her confusion and pain. And although she wasn’t awake to see it, the Kirin dipped below the horizon just before dawn the next morning.

Kensei and Tyr were deep in discussion when Adaline and Orion joined them.

“The beauty of solrise isn’t something as relative as the beauty of a wyvern,” Tyr said with a smile for his tired teammates. “Sol himself is the light we use to see the wonders of the world, and so when he peeks over the world’s edge, lighting up everything else that we find appealing…” Here he paused to let Adaline slide up against his side. “He is beautiful in that he brings beauty to light.”

“The flutist may not always catch my eye, but her music is certain to move my soul.”

“About our plans from here,” Tyr began before giving Adaline a small kiss. “Kensei suggested that we make our way to Dondruma next. What do you both think of that?”

“I’d rather not go anywhere so concentrated with Guild activity,” Adaline said. “I don’t appreciate the way they’ve treated you.”

“Is there anywhere without it though? It might just be a demon we have to face sooner than later,” Tyr reminded her.

Orion shook his head. “Then I’d rather make it later, Tyr. The Guild tried to have you killed, and I’m not going anywhere they’ll have the home advantage if they try again.”

“Okay,” Tyr said. “Where would you suggest?”

“If you’re looking to get away from Guild territory,” Kean said as he and Sarah walked into the gardens, “Then you might want to try the Sekumaeya.”

“You mean Mezaporta?” Adaline asked. “Wasn’t it abandoned after the Age of Discovery?”

“Not entirely,” Sarah said. “We heard, back in Loc Lac, that there’s still a settlement down there, mostly unwatched by the Guild since the area is considered a hive of dangerous monsters. It’s said that everyone who lives there is a Hunter, and that any of them would be G Rank if they just registered themselves.”

“So, we’re gonna try to double the town’s size?” Orion asked with a smile.

“With four people?” Adaline countered.

“Six,” Kean said. “Sarah and I have decided to travel along with you.”

The other Untitled all looked to Tyr, certain that he would’ve had to know something about this beforehand. His look confirmed that he hadn’t. “If you’re going to be Untitled then you’ll have to take the oath.”

“We never said anything abou-“ Kean began.

“Then we’ll take it,” Sarah said, stepping past her husband. There was more than one shocked face in the crowd, small as it was.

“My Dear Wife,” Kean said, trying to pull Sarah back gently. “We should discuss this.”

“It’s just joining a squad, My Prince. It’s not as though we’re signing over our lives, just agreeing to follow their rules while we travel with them.” She smiled at him sweetly, but Kean couldn’t help but feel like she was being insincere somehow. He couldn’t tell how, but he had a sense about that sort of thing. “We said that we would go with them, didn’t we? This isn’t that much of a price to pay to do so.”

Tyr stood up, Adaline and Orion behind him. Kensei, silently realizing his presence was needed, took his place in line with the others. “Sarah,” Tyr said, his eyes locking onto hers. “You’ll have to remove any identifying pieces of armor or jewelry. Kean, you may as well if you plan to follow your wife.”

Although he was silently furious, Kean wasn’t about to abandon Sarah for any reason. Her strong will was something he had done his best to develop, even if he had never meant for her to make such decisions for them. After a long moment, he ripped the chain from the hilt of his saber, bringing with it the small pendant of his family crest. He held onto the short chain, watching it glint in the sunlight. “I,” he started to say, but changed his mind. “I won’t give this up.”

“Then you can keep it,” Tyr replied. “You just can’t wear it.”

Once properly devoid of their former titles, ranks, and family ties, Sarah and Kean recited the oath a moment after Tyr, with the other Untitled.

The conversation continued from there for hours. They discussed strategy, sleeping arrangements, favorable routes, and the things they would undoubtedly have to leave behind. Kensei participated only when necessary, and Kean made the best out of a difficult situation for himself. Orion spoke openly about everything, including the irony of quitting the guard only to end up traveling with both princesses, and Adaline settled herself comfortably in the arms of her Legend, commenting as she saw fit. Tyr spoke without a hint of his still-fractured chakra, and though he held Adaline close his eyes would often rest on Sarah, who watched him whenever she was sure no one was looking, and sometimes when she knew only he was.


	16. A City Forgotten

The Sekumaeya was a desert like many others. Plains of sand stretching from horizon to heat-soaked horizon, littered with dips and dunes that promised shade but never provided it. A sky-blue dome, never so much as touched by a wisp of white clouds, held the baking sands in place and kept the winds at bay. Other deserts, however, were never referred to as the Infinite Inferno.

The average temperature of the Sekumaeya was enough to blister the skin, and even cool drinks only lowered that temperature to something barely tolerable. It stretched for weeks in every direction from its epicenter, located along the equatorial line, and the only respite from the all-consuming heat were oases so scattered and scarce that finding one took a knowledge of the desert no one had ever dared gather. Luckily, their destination lay at the southeastern corner of the desert along the coast, which meant that they only had a few more days of scorched skin and sand before the cooling breeze of the sea. That fact was hardly comforting at the time.

“Remind me again,” Orion said as they trudged through their third day, “Why we decided it would be best to walk?”

“The Guild labeled the area as unfit for habitation,” Kean said. “If we’d brought carriages for anything other than our gear and supplies they would have flagged us down by now.”

“Right.” He took a few more steps through the sand, noting that he’d soon need to empty out his boots again. “But why did we decide to walk?”

“Because we have not yet mastered flight,” Sarah said. “Unless there’s something you’re not telling us about your armor, Orion.”

Some managed to laugh, but it was hard to do in the oppressive heat. Tyr took the opportunity, even though he felt like he could barely breathe. He took every opportunity to show he could feel, unlike Kensei who thought that the display of emotion was best left for the privacy available only in solitude and with close friends. Mid-chuckle, an Akura Vashimu emerged from the sand almost directly in front of them. They encountered something like it at least three times a day, and it was only their vastly superior numbers which kept them going steadily.

True to expectations, the entire party worked very well together, although Tyr and Kean did crowd each other on occasion. They’d said nothing about it, taking the few hits per battle as gracefully as each could manage, and neither had yet to cause a major incident.

“Were you trying to get me killed back there, Tyr?” Kean asked when the Vashimu was dead.

“I was hoping to get the Vashimu, actually,” Tyr replied. “I think I did a pretty good job of it.”

“If you knocking me to my knees a few seconds before its tail beam struck was your attempt at killing it, then perhaps we should give you barrel bombs instead and have you attack like a Felyne. At least then we’d all be able to hear you coming.”

“Excuse me?” Tyr stood up straight, leaving his carving knife half-buried in the fallen Akura. “I was midway through my swing when you leapt in the way, and unless I missed something about your fighting style you could just as easily have rolled with the blow instead of bruising your ego on the sand.”

“Roll with an attack sweeping at my knees? I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not a Wyverian. My legs don’t bend that way.” The Monoblos-clad hunter stepped up, his face an inch from Tyr’s. “Do you honestly think I don’t see what’s going on here? You might have my wife fooled with your carefree attitude, but I know your kind.”

There was a metallic noise somewhere Tyr couldn’t pinpoint as he clenched his fists. “My kind? You mean the only kind who volunteered to save your city from the Jhen?”

There was a heat between them, more real and palpable than anything in the Sekumaeya. “A fight you only survived through my expertise and command.” The heat gave off a clicking noise that quickly turned into a loud hum. “I don’t really think you’re fit to l-“

The explosive burst from Adaline’s switchaxe sent them rocketing away from each other. Somewhere over the crunching sand and clanging armor, Tyr swore he could hear Orion laughing. Sarah couldn’t help but giggle herself, even as her sister slid back to a stop. “That’s better,” Adaline said, “You boys need to learn to save that sort of stuff for when we’re not trying to find a city that may not even exist anymore.”

“It exists,” Kean spat, the words coming out heavy with sand. “And don’t you ever do that again.”

“Then kindly keep your opinions to yourself until we’re safe. Tyr hasn’t killed you yet, and until he has none of us want to hear about it. Same goes for you, Tyr.” Although Kean looked to his wife for support, she was nodding along with her sister. Tyr was humbled enough that he couldn’t meet anyone’s gaze.

“Very well,” Kean said, doing his best to remove the rest of the sand from his already parched mouth. “But when we get to Mezaporta…”

“Yes, yes,” she cut him off. “You can fight each other all you like then.”

Sarah caught up with Kensei. She’d been doing her best to figure out the proper way to talk with him, since figuring out what he meant was as close to deciphering another language as Sarah had come. “The wind and the mountain,” Kensei said in greeting. “One howls his hardest but cannot make the other hear. The other stands motionless, knowing not how to move or why he should.”

Her method had thus far been to only discuss what was actually said, but she couldn’t help but find the metaphor this time. “But why can’t the wind learn to go around the mountain?” she asked. “He must know it would be easier.”

“Changing the wind is as simple as halting the rain, or calming the desert’s fury. Is the mountain so powerful?”

“I don’t know,” she said. Her gaze wandered between Kean and Tyr. Which one, she wondered, did Kensei think was the mountain? Which one the wind? They could both be stubborn and strong, both dedicated to a path that they would not let go of. More important to her though was whether she wanted to soar high above the mountain, perhaps as far as Sol, or rest her wings in its shady trees.

She shook herself out of her thoughts. There was no decision to make. Any life she might’ve had away from Kean had been sealed away in some distant place, one of the towers the Ancients had left perhaps. There were stories about those towers, about the temples, and even the one city they’d left behind.

“Out across the sands, over hills of verdant green and mountains of chilled blue, in a land forgotten by time itself there stands a tower that was once home to those people we call our ancestors. The Ancients. They built it for a purpose no one knows, and abandoned it in a time no one can recall, but now it is a place where only the most foolish of hunters go, because it is said that no one has made it all the way to the top and returned alive.” Orion knew the old stories better than anyone, and everyone had needed the distraction that evening.

“Why haven’t they ever returned alive?” Adaline asked, knowing that Orion had a penchant for interactivity.

“No one knows. Some claim that it’s a portal to another world, a one-way gate that the men who built it used to escape before the end of their civilization. Others claim that a creature unlike any other discovered lives atop that tower, and that it kills those who reach it. Some even say that the tower simply has no top, and that foolish hunters continue to climb towards nothing to this very day.”

“Surely the Guild has investigated it by now,” Kean said, folding his arms across his chest.

“If they have, they’ve been letting hunters go to their deaths for no reason. Not that there’s anything new about that,” Orion said, trying to get back to his story.

“Why is it you three despise the Guild so much?” Kean asked. “I know that it’s because of you,” he added, looking right at Tyr. “I understand that much, even if how you convinced the other two is beyond comprehension. Yes, the Guild has made your life harder for not following their rules, but they are the law for hunters of every stripe. Their rules have made this world a better place. They have organized and regulated hunting to keep the balance of humans and monsters at sustainable levels. They have created a universal standard of crafting so that hunters and the common people never need to worry about the quality of their smith, and found the ore combinations necessary to keep hunters from cutting each other into ribbons with careless strikes. They have even catalogued the habits and territories of every great beast from the Bulldrome to the Fatalis to make certain that anyone can be prepared for the dangers of this world before they ever go out into it. So what, praytell, is your problem with the organization that has singlehandedly made this world a bearable place to live in?”

Strong silence followed. It was easy to list personal slights and negative experiences, but even Tyr would be hard-pressed to argue with what Kean had said. The Guild may have demanded much, and taken away everything he had, but what they’d given the world was impossible to deny. Still, it was harder not to be selfish when they’d already set themselves out on a path like this.

“I suppose it’s because they seem infallible,” Adaline said. “No matter what the Guild does or how they do it, they rule the whole world and so it’s impossible to say they’re wrong. They’ve done a lot for all of us, but they’ve also done it for themselves.”

“Everyone does things for themselves, Addy,” Sarah said. “That doesn’t make the Guild evil. If people weren’t selfish then we’d never do anything for the ones we love.”

“They still had no right to try and kill Tyr,” Adaline said, pushing herself back into Tyr’s arms. “And I’ll never forgive them for that.”

Kean looked skeptical. “They tried to kill you? How do you know?”

“Their assassin told me himself.”

“You must be the dumbest hunter in all of the Old Continent.” Adaline bristled at the comment, but Tyr just pulled her tighter to him. “Some person with a grudge says the Guild sent him to kill you and you just believed him? You didn’t think that maybe he was lying to you? That only a truly bad assassin would tell you the name of his employer, especially in front of royalty he then let escape?”

“I’ve thought about that,” Orion said, drawing all eyes back to himself again. “He wasn’t the kind of guy to make up excuses for his actions, and he was always the first to light a Guild Torch when a hunt was over.”

“But you say he was in the guard for how many years before this incident?” Kean retorted.

“That’s what doesn’t make sense,” Orion said, drawing a line in the sand. “The Guild has so many assassins out there that they wouldn’t need to hide one in the city guard. And, even if they did, they didn’t need to use him to kill Tyr. It’s not like we wouldn’t have all known who it was.”

“Precisely. It doesn’t add up. The whole idea is ludicrous. What reason would the Guild even have for wanting someone like you dead?”

“I can tell you that,” Tyr said. “I’m proof that good people don’t need the Guild; they just need other good people.”

“Do you honestly think the Guild does away with anyone who might be a positive influence outside of their own ranks?” Kean’s muscles tensed. “Or that you being a village hero was somehow unique?”

“Kean,” Sarah started, but he waved her off.

“Every village between Pokke and Moga seems to have some local hero nowadays. They all go out and fight the monsters that others cannot or will not. Some do it with permission, and some do it without, but the Guild keeps track of all their hunts and allows them to continue so long as they don’t take their antics too far. You are not one amongst the millions, Tyr. You are just another hunter.”

“If not them, then who? Who wants me killed and, more importantly, why have me killed, Kean?” Tyr asked.

“I don’t believe the Guild wanted you dead. I don’t know who did. But, if anyone did, and if I had to pick just one reason, it would be this: You’ve disrupted royal tradition for personal pleasure.”

“You don’t know a thing,” Adaline practically spat.

“Don’t I? What other reason is there for all of us to be in the middle of this godforsaken desert if it isn’t because he needs to become a Legend now because he wouldn’t marry you when he had the chance?”

Adaline couldn’t think of anything to say to that. That wound was still fresh.

“I don’t know when all of this started for you, but I know that it should have ended the day they sent you away from Nifila. They sent you away to spare you from the pain of watching your village adapt to a life without you as their primary defense. They helped you escape from the mire of guilt that you would’ve wallowed in, and from the flood of pained expressions on the faces of your friends and family. After every law you broke and every time you spat in their face, the Guild showed you mercy. They showed you more forgiveness for actual crimes than you have for their imagined ones. And you have repaid them with this,” he gestured to where Tyr and Adaline sat, both still a bit dumbstruck. “This blatant display of disregard for how the world is meant to be.”

“Kean,” Sarah said again, grabbing his hand. “That’s enough.”

“It is,” Kean agreed, standing to leave. “I’ll see you all in the morning. We’ve still days to go before our destination.”

It wasn’t long after that the Untitled reached the beach. The gentle, rolling waves and the salt-rich scent of the air worked wonders on their muscles, sore from constant battles through the unforgiving desert. While the boys were content to simply strip off their armor and wade into the surf in their undergarments, Sarah and Adaline lay themselves out on the beach on their blankets. For a very long time, they just watched the boys splashing each other or floating around while they soaked in the warming rays of Sol.

“I heard that Lior showed up to see you and your husband,” Adaline said, her voice just loud-enough to be heard over the ocean.

“She did. It was nice to see Plaka, Degin, and Curro. Plaka’s grown so much since he left.”

“I’m sorry that Lior was in such a foul mood.”

“She’s always in a foul mood,” Sarah said. “What’s snow really like? I’ve heard the stories from the dignitaries, but you know how they can be.”

“You remember the ice crystal earrings and necklaces we used to buy to keep us cool? Snow is every bit as cold as those crystals, and it covers everything it touches. It sticks to your armor and clothes, then melts into frigid water that makes them cling to your body. Any wind at all makes you feel like you could freeze solid.”

“It sounds dreadful. How did you ever survive?”

“There are a lot of ways to keep warm in the north. They’ve had to invent them, just like we needed ways to keep cool. Traders give most anything for firestone and fur. It wasn’t terrible though. The snow makes everything the most brilliant white, and it glitters like it’s made of light.”

“Kean and I visited the jungle during the winter. It doesn’t snow, but it does rain incessantly. That’s where we went to fight the Hypnocatrice for my arrows.”

“It seems like a waste of feathers to me. Aren’t Hypnocs usually hunted for their sleep sacs? That seems much more useful for arrows than just the feathers.”

Sarah giggled a bit. “Actually, the feathers are what archers use to channel our chakra properly. Hypnoc feathers are some of the best in the world because once they’ve stiffened they’re nearly impossible to break.”

“I didn’t think Kean would ever settle for anything less than the best.”

“He wouldn’t at first. I can still remember him arguing with me about trying to find and hunt down a Wikoatl. In the end, the only thing that convinced him was that they weren’t in season.”

“I’m sure the fact that only a handful of groups have ever returned from hunting one successfully was hardly an issue,” Adaline said as she rolled herself onto her stomach and undid her top. “Then again, the two of you work well together.”

“No moreso than you and Tyr. Something you proved to us with that Diablos hunt.” She rolled over as well, staring over at her sister. “Do you carve everything you kill, Addy?”

“Of course I do. Don’t you?”

“I do, but I haven’t decided on why.”

“The materials are always useful to someone,” Adaline said with a shrug. “So, I would rather they went to those who needed them.”

“The Guild makes certain enough of that. You don’t need to as well.”

“I don’t want to talk about the Guild again. Besides, I can always fashion what I gather into a new outfit if no one needs it.”

“Most monster materials are too valuable to be given away. Do you really need that many outfits?”

“I have to keep Tyr interested somehow.” There was a smile in her voice that Sarah knew, even if it wasn’t plastered across her face.

“I’d think he wouldn’t need that sort of thing.”

“He doesn’t,” she said, a little more gently. “But, I like dressing up and he likes to see me do it.” Adaline turned her gaze from Sarah to the boys. “I don’t see the harm in doing things that make us both happy. Do you?”

“No. I just… Do you think that Tyr is the wind or the mountain?”

Adaline almost laughed. “What? You’ve been talking with Kensei too much.”

“Perhaps,” she admitted, looking out at the surf. The boys were all laughing at something or another, even Kensei. “But he said that Tyr and Kean were like the wind and the mountain. One too stubborn to move, the other too stubborn to change his course. Which do you think Tyr is?”

“I guess… I don’t really think he’s either.”

Sarah waited for her sister to go on, to say whatever it was she was thinking while they both watched Tyr swimming through the sparkling surf. It seemed like an eternity to her, waiting on the meaning behind her sister’s words, but hunting was a game of patience.

“It doesn’t really matter to me which one anyone thinks he is. He’s Tyr.”

“That’s not fair, Addy.”

“Maybe it isn’t, but it’s how I see it. What made you ask, anyways?”

“I guess I just wanted a second opinion.”

“Don’t tell me you’re trying to steal him from me.”

“No, I-“

“Because he’s mine.”

“I know th-“

“And I plan to keep it that way. No matter what it costs me.”

“And what about what it costs our family?”

“If all goes well,” Adaline said, pinning up her top again as she stood and headed for the waves. “Then that won’t be anything.”

“But what if it is something?” Sarah asked, just before she would’ve had to shout it to be heard.

Adaline didn’t respond to her. She didn’t stop until she’d waded out, grabbed Tyr by the lips with her own, and fell with him into the surf.

For days they walked along the seaside, battling carapaceons and the occasional piscine wyvern, but they were grateful for every ocean breeze, every day not spent in the direct inferno of the Sekumaeya. Eventually though, they saw the Diamut Mountains on the horizon. Buried in those mountains was the once-powerful city of Mezaporta, a central hub for hunters in the Age of Discovery. During those eighty years, Guild researchers and hunters found, rediscovered, and documented well over a hundred breeds of monsters, and explored the southern continent, known as the New Continent. It was also the city where the eastern hunters from Yukumo first visited the Old Continent, trading their time-tested secrets for acceptance and new technology.

Now though, Mezaporta was just a desolate city that the stubborn and the poor refused to give up on. It was impossibly large; so most of the city had been long left to the winds of chance and the beasts that would not relent in reclaiming their territory. Even the Guild had abandoned their outpost there. No one in the group could quite believe that the tiny circle of huts and shops was all that there was to this place mentioned in nearly every childhood storybook. Not that their belief would have changed anything.

"Welcome to Mezaporta," Tyr said, his disappointment more obvious in his voice than his face. "The gateway of history."

As they approached the main circle, no one welcomed them, no one waved, no one so much as took a second glance. Every townsperson was dressed in full armor, their weapons hanging from straps that were worn with overuse. "Is this really Mezaporta?" Adaline asked. "It seems so..."

"Empty?" a voice from just inside the weaponsmith's shop called out. "Because if you're looking for anything more, I suggest you get yourselves on a boat to Yukumo."

They waited for a moment for someone to emerge, but the smith seemed to be content in her secrecy. When it was obvious no one was going to come out, Kean stepped towards the shop. "I am Pr… I am Kean. Who, might I ask, am I speaking to?"

"You speak to Lao-Shan Lung."

"Lao-Shan Lung? I’m impressed. That is quite the title to have earned."

"Who says it’s my title?" Lao-Shan Lung said, still keeping to the shadows. "You asked who you were speaking to, and I answered. What brings you to Mezaporta?"

"We have come to train, and to learn," Kean said. "We had hoped to find the city where Legends were born. Obviously, we were mistaken."

A soft but dark chuckling came from the tent. "Perhaps you are at that. Tell me, Kean, what is the strongest beast you've felled?"

"The Jhen Mohran," he replied.

"Then Mohran is your name here," Lao-Shan said, and Adaline giggled. "What of you, giddy little girl? What name will you claim?"

"Dyura," Adaline said.

"The Jhen Mohran for me too," Orion said.

"Tigrex," Sarah added.

Kensei looked to Tyr, but since he was silent the Sword Saint said, "The dark brute, Deviljho."

Even as all eyes turned on him, Tyr did not speak. "And you?" Lao asked patiently. "What monster would you claim?"

When it looked as though his leader would never reply, Orion opened his mouth to speak, but Tyr's hand was up before he could get through his first word. "Genprey," he said, and even Kean couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Tyr," Orion said. "Come on, man. You were there for the Jhen, the Dyura, that Brachydios."

"I know very well what I’ve been present to fight, Orion. I also know that wasn't what Lao-Shan Lung asked us."

"Well, I mean if you only want to count things you've killed yourself then at least say the Los or something."

"I haven’t done a solo hunt in a long time."

“But what about all your times in the arena? The Sand Barioth! The Monoblos!”

“You know as well as I do that arena fights aren’t against monsters at full capacity.”

“But it’s on your Guild Card!”

“What makes you think we recognize Guild Cards here?” Lao-Shan Lung stepped out from the shadows of the shop. The smith was tall for a human, dressed in the full armor of her namesake, and sporting a hammer crafted from one of its giant talons, dyed a deep red. She looked over Tyr and his group, but ended up with her eyes resting on Kean. "Well, Mohran, it seems you've at least brought a couple worthy warriors with you. If you want to stay, you'll build your own houses, keep the city safe from any attack, and you'll hunt until you've broken every bone in your body, until you can barely lift your weapons, and then you'll keep on hunting with those broken bones and useless blades until you meet something you can't match. That's how we live around here. No more Legends, no more tall tales. This is Mezaporta, and if you think killing a Jhen Mohran makes you anyone around here, then you'd better get in line."

"Build our own houses?" Kean asked. "Out of what?"

"That's up to you, Mohran. I'm the best and only weaponsmith in town. You've got your armorsmith on the other end, an item shop, and a gathering hall."

"I thought the Guild abandoned Mezaporta," Sarah said, peeking in the direction that their dark-skinned guide had just pointed.

"They did, but they didn't take their buildings with them, Tigrex"

"Oh," Sarah blushed. "Of course."

"And how are we supposed to construct our own homes?" Kean asked again. "You expect all of us to have experience with construction?"

"No. But if you plan to live here it is a skill you should acquire."

"You don't have someone that's trained to do it already?”

"Every person in Mezaporta is trained to do it, but if you think we have the time to build you a home just because you walked into town, then you might be as stupid as the wyverns you've killed."

"Lao!" A voice called out from behind them, and twins in a mash-up of armors that were hardly identifiable at a glance came rushing up. "We've got a problem in the canyon. Stampede."

"Of?"

"Apceros."

"And?"

"They're headed straight this way!" the second twin shouted, slightly more upset about the whole ordeal.

"Right." Lao-Shan took one look at the twins, then shrugged. "You heard them, Mohran. Pick a team and go take care of it."

"What exactly do you want me to do about a stampede?" Kean asked.

"I want you to make certain they don't run right through our city.” Despite having Kean named as their group leader, everyone instinctively looked towards Tyr, but he just shrugged.

"You heard her," he said. "Mohran's in charge."

Kean almost growled at the name, but he knew he didn't have much time as it was. "Kensei, Sarah, Orion. You're with me."

The four of them took off, following the twins in the direction of the canyon while Lao continued talking to Tyr and Adaline. Sarah only looked back over her shoulder once as they raced across the open plateau, just once as the path began falling down; Tyr had his arm around Adaline again, and Sarah could do nothing about it.

Down and down, further and further they went, until the unmistakable red army was in view, kicking up dust so thick it was impossible to imagine the full size of the herd. "What's our plan, fearless leader?" Orion asked as he measured their options. There wasn't really much in the way of anything to use around them. They were stuck between two cliff faces, with the city behind them and the herd in front. "Because I'm not really seeing much."

Kean shook his head and looked to the twins, but they were already running the other way. Apparently, their duty was done. "We need to get them to stop running," he said. "If we can stop the front line then the rest won't be able to get past."

"Great plan." Orion hesitated. "How are we gonna do that?"

The herd was less than a minute away already, and at the speed they were travelling they'd be at Mezaporta in less than ten. Kean was rapidly formulating plans when an arrow rocketed past his head and bounced off the thick, armored shell of the lead Apceros. "Sarah!" he shouted, but she was already adjusting her aim for another shot. "You should wait for my command!"

His wife nodded, but said no more as she let another arrow loose. This one flew true, impaling the stupid beast and dropping it in the path of its brethren. Many behind it stumbled and crashed over the carcass, but there wasn't enough time for Sarah to down as many as they would need. Kean drew his blade, and charged at the herd. “Form a wall!” Orion and Kensei followed, and together they cut the legs out from almost a dozen Apceros while rolling and diving to avoid being trampled. But it never quite got easier.

Apceros poured in through the gaps between the piles, and soon Sarah could only weave herself back and forth with no time to aim. Dust flew into the air so thickly that visibility was reduced to nothing and Sarah had only fractions of a second between dodging one beast and another emerging from the cloud behind it. Just how many wild Apceros could there be in one remote area of the desert, she wondered. Or was the entire desert's population suddenly concentrated in this valley?

She thought these things only because she had time for little else. Weaving in and out of the Apceros was so natural to her now that she hardly remembered a time when it wasn't. She did remember the words though, words about fighting being a dance with her opponents, and her memories took her feet back to that rapid dance she had only barely grown accustomed to. The earth trembling beneath her feet, the dust clouding her eyes, coating her mouth, filling her nose, and even the rising heat of the animals rushing past her were all secondary to a dance that outran them all.

"Sarah." Kean's voice cut through her memories, and her mind snapped back to the present. The herd hard been split. The dust was still thick, but the bleating of the Apceros piled up below was enough to let her know that no more could get through that wall of sound. She stopped dancing, thankful for the red cloud she was otherwise lost in.

"I'm here, Kean."

"We need to follow them," he said as he rushed past her, less than a foot away. Did he have the ability to see in this dust? She knew that his armor gave him a sixth sense about the location of large monsters he was looking for, but had he honed it to the point where he could find other things without sight as well? It wasn't unheard of - hunters pushing the limits of what was known to be possible - but Kean had given no indication of the ability before now. There wasn't time to ask, only to run back up the canyon, choking on dust as they went along.

When they neared town they slowed again, because the sound of bleating was thick in the air again. A strong and sudden gust rushed past them, belting them with the heavy red dust, and when they were finally able to wipe the sand from their eyes all were able to see the enormous hole they'd stopped only a few meters from themselves.

On the other side of the canyon-sized hole filled with dead, dying, and struggling Apceros was Adaline. "You did alright, Mohran."

“They had the whole time?” Kean asked, his hand twitching.

“Yup. Lao was surprised you didn’t ask about the town’s available defenses before rushing off.

“She might have… where is she?”

“She took Tyr up the mountain.” Adaline paused, uncertainty creeping into her voice. “To get him a better name.”

The mountain nearest Mezaporta was officially name Kokudriscol. "But, to anyone local," Lao-Shan explained, "it's Dry Skull Mountain."

"Why the nickname?"

"Because there are bones here that crumble when touched, because the mountain sees less than a finger of rain per year, and because it's shorter." She smiled at Tyr then, a dark but charming smile, like a wyvern in human form. "Do you know why I brought you up here, Rhennox?"

Tyr looked between the twins on either side of him for help, but they were silent. "A test," he replied. "You want to know what kind of hunter I am."

"A good guess, but no. We are here to test you, that much is true, but I am far more interested in finding out what kind of man you are."

"I thought Mezaporta didn't care about such things. Only what you can do, not who you are." Tyr clicked his tongue. "Seems like false advertising."

"Meza doesn't," she replied, "but I do."

The four of them, Lao, Tyr, and the twins, continued walking for a while in silence up the trail. They had been climbing less than ten minutes, but already the view had stretched to encompass the whole of Mezaporta, the great canyon which led to the city, and a large expanse of the desert beyond. It was beautiful in its own way, the same way Fahrenn was beautiful, and yet it was a wild beauty here. A deadly beauty.

"What will my test be?" Tyr asked as he tried to pinpoint some kind of destination ahead.

"We will be observing you in combat."

"So, this is about my hunting ability after all."

"No. And I will not repeat myself again to you. I could tell by looking at you what sort of hunter you are, your level of skill, even how broken your chakra still is."

Tyr stuttered in his step, staring after the smith. Had someone told her? She mentioned it so casually it was impossible to believe otherwise, and yet no one had mentioned speaking with her either. What sort of hunter could read another in that way? "How did you…?"

"Don't play dumb with me." Lao spoke with an intensity, a finality, which wouldn’t be ignored. It was a voice that called storms and moved mountains, that broke men just as easily as it made them whole again. "You traveled across the Sekumaeya with a Legend at your heels. Don't tell me you can't feel the difference in his chakra; see it when he fights." It was the voice, Tyr imagined, of the great mountain dragon itself.

"I... have noticed a difference," he admitted as soon as his legs would move again. "I always thought it was something I had imagined." Tyr shook his head. "No. It was always that no one else ever said anything."

"Do you know why I'm testing you instead of the others?"

"No."

"Then this will be informative for you as well. Now…" They stopped at the edge of an immense plateau cut into the mountain. On the far side was a titan of a wyvern, and Tyr couldn't imagine how it had made it this far up on its own. "This is Dobby. Kill her."

The twins leapt at Lao, their hands already reaching for their hunting horns, but she only had to raise a silent hand to stop them.

"Is that all there is to it? I don’t kill for sport. Test o-"

Lao's hammer hit him so hard and fast that Tyr didn't actually feel the impact, only his crash against the mountain wall. "Did I offer you a choice?" There was an incredible amount of pain in his chest, as though he'd been struck by the Rhennox again. He choked for a breath before collapsing to his knees. "You'll notice the Guild doesn't supply us with their 'Peace Ore' here. It's kill or be killed, hunt or be hunted. It is you or her."

Dobby, alerted by the noise of the group, hefted herself to her feet and roared a challenge. The humps on her back let off small blasts of steam, and she swung her massive bladed tail back and forth. She may as well have been a puffed-up pink Diablos, but Tyr knew better than to think she would fight the same way.

His torso ached, and for a few moments after regaining his footing his vision swam with pain. He uncorked a potion and downed it as quickly as he could, but the movement made his chest spasm. "Did you..." He coughed violently before the potion's effects started to work their magic. "Have to hit me so hard?"

"She hits just as hard."

"Right..." Tyr straightened himself slowly, and even began to walk into the makeshift arena, but he stopped at its edge. He looked back at Akura and Vashimu, watched them even as they couldn’t meet his gaze. “You’ll have to hit me again, Lao.”

The hammer flew again, directly for him and without a hint of warning. This time, expecting it, he could’ve dodged, could’ve stepped back, but he took the hit and slid to a stop. The pain was excruciating, so much so that he shook, but he was still standing. He swallowed another gulp of potion and took a step towards Lao, his back to the wyvern. “You said you weren’t giving me a choice,” Tyr continued, downing one more shot for a bit of liquid courage. Lao hit him again, sending him flying backwards this time. Tyr was now flat on his back, gazing up at the brute wyvern above him.

Based on what he knew of hunting lore, he was staring at a Duramboros. They were larger than he imagined, but there was also something wrong; Duramboros could supposedly fly. With no wings and the body of a boulder, he couldn't fathom how that would be. Dobby turned, lifting her massive tail to deliver a crushing blow, but Tyr rolled out of the way. The ground shuddered from the impact, and the shaking made his chest burn. At the rate he was using up potions, he couldn’t keep the pattern up, but he wasn’t about to back down. He charged Lao this time. “But I am Untitled. I have no master, no one to tells me my choices.” Lao didn’t even flinch before she knocked him away again.

As he recovered, Dobby began to spin in a violent whirlwind. _A defensive maneuver?_ he thought, but in the same moment he finished the thought he realized how wrong he was. Dobby launched herself tail-first across the platform and crash-landed only a few feet from the place Tyr had leapt from in his frantic attempt to escape. Flight, he realized, had a different context with this wyvern. He considered how feasibly he could escape the city with his only exit off the mountain blocked, and a ‘flying’ brute wyvern trying to mow him down.

What purpose would killing this trapped creature fulfill? It would earn him a new name, maybe, but what new information could Lao glean from how he killed that she couldn't see in his chakra, or in everything else he did? How he handled difficult situations, perhaps, but why kill a wyvern that meant so much to the twins, and especially right in front of their eyes? Their emotions didn’t make sense to him, but there was no answer that didn't make his blood boil. Whatever Lao's reasoning, Tyr was intent on finding an alternate ending.

So, he got back to his feet and he started walking calmly back towards the only exit. This time, when he got within striking range, Lao knocked him flat onto his back, and stood over him with her hammer raised. Tyr glared at her. “Go ahead and try! The Silver Los could only break my chakra, and you are no better beast!”

There was a moment of silence, and then Dobby roared from across the arena. She began to charge, her head lowered and horns tearing through the ground. But when she was no more than a few meters away a hard melody rung out from the two he'd almost forgotten were still there. Dobby lifted her horned head curiously at the sounds, halting her charge. It took a few moments, but she began to beat her tail along with the hunting horns.

The twins played their horns beautifully, a song full of power, pride, and yet peace echoing out of their inner chambers. Their chakras flooded these empty places, amplifying and enchanting every noise to give it some breath of power it could never have otherwise. The adjoining beat, as ground-shaking as it felt, had a calming effect on the body, even as it riled the soul. He had never heard such a thing before, but Dobby was all-too-familiar with the tune. As the song drew to a close, she backed herself to the far side of the plateau and settled down to rest.

"Incredible," Tyr said. "How does that work?"

"Very well," Lao replied over the dying notes. "You, however, are everything I expected you to be."

"Which is?"

"Trouble."

"Only when I have to be."

“No. You are always trouble.” There was no hint of a joke in her voice, no pretense of kindness, just bare truth. “You think yourself above rules. You disobey any order that doesn't conform to your personal goals. You are an idealist with more power than you know what to do with, and more potential than you'll ever realize. You are trouble incarnate. Give me a Brute Tigrex in the square any day."

Dobby let out a half yawn, half roar, and Tyr was finally allowed to his feet. "You accuse me of all that because of one experience?"

Lao gave him only the briefest of pitying looks. "No, Tyr. All of that because even in this forgotten place someone like yourself is impossible not to hear about."

"The Guild then."

"The Guild are not the only power in this world who would take interest in someone like you. You would do well to remember that."

"Then who? Lior? The Merchant's Union? Kean's father? Who cares enough to inform the lost city of Mezaporta that I'm coming into town?” Tyr gripped for something, for more anger, for the anger that he'd found against the Silver Los, and for more than that. He couldn't find that anger though, only an absence of hope that tore at the base of his stomach. "Assassins, removing me from two homes, forcing Adaline into marriage… What exactly do all of you want with me?"

Rather than respond, Lao made a small signal with her hand that freed the twins from their silence. Tyr recognized the signal. "It's not really about what we want," Akura said. "It's about making certain the world will still be here when you're through with it."

"You're a force of personality," Vashimu continued. "You might not have noticed before now but everyone in every city you go to knows your name before you leave it."

"After encountering a wyvern many only hear about in tall tales, you survived with your chakra so broken you couldn't actually feel emotion, and yet you've since become a hunter of renown who helped slay a Jhen Mohran."

"Royalty have thrown away their titles, abandoned their ancestral homes, and broken nearly every tradition ever held sacred to their families in order to pursue you."

"And moments ago..." Akura let his words fade, as though he didn't know how to continue.

"You nearly got yourself killed, all to save a beast you don’t even care about." Vashimu sounded as though he didn't believe it himself, but kept on going. "Whether all of this is because of your chakra being shattered."

"Or if you've always been destined for this, it doesn't really matter." Akura sounded like he was holding back tears. "What matters is who and what you are now, and there are people that can't just let someone like you run wild."

"I… didn’t do it for Dobby,” Tyr said in the brief window he had, but he wasn’t quite so certain of it after saying it aloud. She had a name, and nothing else.

“You stood up to Lao, and that’s suicide.”

“In the first degree.”

Tyr sighed. He didn’t know what to think. "So, what now?"

"Now we take you to see what you need to see." As Lao spoke, she shoved a rock into the mountain's side. This small act split the mountain wall they'd been walking along, and a door-sized hole formed at the base of the split. "Go in."

Tyr had strolled through caverns with barely enough light to see past his own nose. He'd grinned at the base of a frozen mountain knowing his destination, the peak, was infinitely colder. He'd stared into the hellfire eyes of an angry Los and chuckled. This doorway, simple and dark, knotted his stomach and slowed everything to a crawl. He swallowed his fear and stepped slowly inside.

The only light was behind him, spilling through the doorway onto the impossibly smooth floor. Beyond the light was some sort of sound. A high sound like a bell, but it didn't ring or echo. Like a bird's chirp, but without life. It sounded once, then twice, and then a new light spasmed into life. It was a harshly soft color, and it stung to see it. The light came from a small artificial Sol hanging overhead, brighter than even a novacrystal lamp.

What the mini Sol illuminated was an assortment of incredibly detailed paintings. They were stunningly accurate images of people in strange clothes waving at the viewer, landscapes he could almost recognize, covered metallic boats flying through the air without any visible balloons, and even a pair of circles, one white and grey, the other blue and green, littered with white smudges, against a speckled black background. The painter, whoever it was, had somehow managed to capture enough detail to make the viewer think it was a real image, and Tyr had to remind himself that none of this was remotely possible. They were imaginative, vibrant, and he couldn't feel the paint. They were smooth, covered by a thin slice of glass that didn’t smudge and fitted perfectly into the frame, but it was all impossible.

There was one in particular that caught his attention, a woman with a strange device, some sort of back-mounted pack with short tubes coming out of the base. It was silver, like steel, and judging by its size likely would’ve weighed more than her if it weren’t within her chakra. Compared to every other image, it seemed unique somehow; something about her dark hair and her smirk that Tyr swore he recognized.

"Can you guess what it is?" Akura asked, less than a foot from Tyr's right side.

"It's a poor way to carry monster parts," he guessed. "Some sort of joke."

"Come now," Vashimu countered to his left, "that's hardly a guess at all. They'd fall out."

"It's..." He paused in thought. The pack was nearly twice as wide as the woman, with straps over the shoulders, around the torso, and oddly the pelvis as well, as though to keep the pack from floating away. The tubes coming from the bottom were more like funnels, widening to empty circular ends, possibly to eject some waste matter. In the woman's hands were two sword handles that looked as though they had chiseled hunks of firestone attached, polished as smooth as the rest of the metal; a weapon prototype, maybe? It could explain everything if the pack was some sort of crude elemental phial or something, but where was the blade? The funnels couldn't be gun barrels, they were pointed straight down. No one would ever bend over to fire backwards like that. Unless she was wearing it upside down?

"It's...?" the twins prompted.

"It's... it's an Ancient." Tyr tasted the phrase on his tongue and in his head. It had to be. The paint may have looked no older than it would have if it dried this morning, but he was looking at the face, the clothes, the machinery of the people who had conquered this world before vanishing into its clouded history. "These paintings, this room, it's all... it's all theirs."

"Of course it is," Vashimu said. "But what do you think this thing she had on is?"

"Does it matter?"

"Does anything else?" Akura replied. "We opened this room nearly ten years ago. There's nothing else to it but the light and these smooth paintings."

"Pinturas," his twin corrected. "They're not paintings, or at least not anything like our paintings. There's no thickness to them."

"Too much detail too. It's impossible to be that accurate on such a small scale with a brush."

"So, since we know that much, there's only one thing left to wonder about."

"And that's what this does."

As he looked between them, Tyr couldn't believe how juvenile they were being. Here was the first, maybe the _only_ , cache of recorded information on the Ancients and their technology, and they wanted to speculate on what the gadgetry in a single picture might do. What about them, their lives, their habits? But even as he asked himself he realized how futile that would be. Their question was the closest anyone could get. Even so, he couldn't bring himself to answer, to even guess now that he knew the truth.

"Can you guess why you needed to see this?" Lao asked when he turned to leave. Unable to look up at her, he shook his head. "We are all descended from them, the Ancients, those who found a world infested and made it home." It was The Story. Every human had heard it as a child, and most could recite the majority by heart. "No civilization older, no technology greater, no people more lost to time. They built the towers, the castles, and they prospered in a land we have struggled to survive in. They were conquerors; we are their shadows.

"As great as they were, as resourceful as they must have been, the Ancients still vanished. They left no clues, no signs. They left nothing but us and their empty monuments, most of them no more than ruins now. We’ve developed weapons and armor, we’ve built cities and roads, we’ve slowly taken back the land from the rampaging monsters that share this world with us, guided by the hand of The Guild, but in the thousands of years since their disappearance we’re still nowhere near what the Ancients were.

“But we are better than they were.” Tyr looked up. This was new. “Better because without their grand technology, without their knowledge of things well beyond our grasp to comprehend, we have survived. We have expanded our towns and cities, and even here in this forgotten place we do not yield to the forces of the world that would wipe us off of it. We are better than the Ancients, because we have not - we will not - simply disappear.”

He didn’t know what to say. What was there to say? He stepped outside, out of the cold light and back into the warmth of Sol. No one stopped him, but he didn’t go far. “Did you know my mother?” he asked without looking at Lao.

“I still do. How did you know?”

“The signal.” He held up his hand, mimicking the motion she’d made before. “I don’t know why I still thought she’d made the signs up herself.”

“She sends her love.”

Tyr couldn’t speak anymore. His throat was too tight, his vision too blurry. He moved his hands instead, in ways he hadn’t since he left Nifila. It was like fighting a Los; no matter how long it had been, no matter how broken he felt, he could always speak in his mother’s tongue.

“I will,” Lao said. “Will you help us find out what happened to them?”

Another few moments of silent signing followed.

“Because we need to be prepared, Tyr. We don’t know what ended their civilization, and unless we know what it was we can’t hope to fight against it. Your mother believed in that, and hopes you will too.”

Tyr whirled on Lao. He looked insane, crying and flailing at her, but Lao caught every word.

“You are half right, but I am sorry nonetheless. It was wrong of me to use her like that, but you are wrong to think the Ancients don’t matter.”

Tyr swallowed hard, slowly finding a voice again. As he spoke, he kept his arms and hands moving, just in case his voice gave out again. “Convince me.”


	17. Directions

Tyr still felt cold despite the heat of the day. Lao had taken him back to the edge of Dobby’s plateau without a word. They stared at the dozing wyvern for some time before Lao spoke.

“What do you know about the Ancients besides The Story?”

“Nothing. Just that they built the towers and the castles, I guess.”

“Our organization has been researching them for over a hundred years. We have learned much, and yet also very little.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out then.”

“Got that out of your system?”

“Sorry.”

“We know that they were powerful. We know that they covered all of the Old Continent and even some of the New. They may have even been to the Far Side, but without our own means of getting there, it’s impossible to say. We have no idea what ended such a global civilization, but we think it has to do with the Elder Dragons.”

“Why them?”

“What other force do you know of that could take down an entire city?”

“I don’t know. Volcanoes? Earthquakes? Meteors?”

“A global catastrophe. Yes. We’ve thought of that too, but then how did everything else survive?”

“I don’t know,” he repeated. “Maybe…”

“Maybe this catastrophe was a targeted one. Maybe it was intelligent about what it destroyed.”

Tyr looked down at Mezaporta, trying not to picture the flying boats from the pintura, but they wouldn’t get out of his head. Nor would the face. “Well, if they did, how do you expect us to beat the Elders? Most Legends can only stand up to them one-on-one. And there are, what, ten Legends in all the world?”

“And there are dozens of known species of Elder, yes.”

“So, what then?”

“We don’t know yet. We don’t know what happened, or why. We know that we don’t want it to happen to us. We won’t let it, so long as we can stop it.”

“And if you can’t?”

“Then everyone you care about dies, Tyr.”

“So why not recruit everyone? Why not work with the Guild and have them task everyone with this?”

“For the same reason they don’t run the Merchant’s Union, or have a Guild Hall in every single village. They have more-immediate concerns.”

“They always do.”

“You’re aware that they’re not evil, yes?”

“I know they’re not,” Tyr sighed. “I just… they’ve been against me for so long in my mind that it’s hard to accept that they haven’t been against me at all.”

“I didn’t say they weren’t against you.”

There was silence, broken only by the occasional snore from the slumbering Dobby.

“How did you meet?”

“She should be the one to tell you.”

“I’m never going to see her again, Lao. Not unless she leaves Nifila.”

“You think she won’t?”

“I… don’t know. I guess I was being stupid.”

“You were. But,” Lao shifted for the first time, her hammer grating against the ground. “I’ll tell you.”

“So long as I go do this for you, right?”

“No. If you aren’t convinced that saving the world is worth it then there’s no point in you going. I’m telling you because even though she should be the one to say it, she would want me to. We were sisters once, in the Guild.”

The rush of dizziness hit Tyr harder than Lao’s hammer. “Wh… What?”

“We were sisters in the Guild. That’s what they raise assassins to believe in.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“You shouldn’t. You’ve known me less than a day, I’ve nearly killed you, and I’m asking you to search the world for answers to questions I don’t know the answer to. Believing me would be foolish, so tell me why you should.”

“That’s not how that’s supposed to work.”

Lao made a few small signs with her hands, and Tyr looked at her, somewhat perplexed.

“Yes?”

“Any Guild assassin will know that series of signs and recognize you as one of their own. Any Guild official will grant you one favor in a private audience. Even your travelling companions will know it means that you are someone important and need to see the local ruler. If you want a reason, try it, and see if I’ve lied to you.”

“But she… she said that was something else.”

“She’s smarter than you’ve given her credit for.”

“That’s not…” But he knew it was true. He’d always though she was brilliant, that she had eyes in the back of her head, but apparently even that had been an underestimation. “Can I go? I need to think.”

“Go.”

The walk back was slow, and he might’ve missed the doorway if Jebia and Vashimu hadn’t been coming out of it.

“Hey,” Vashimu started. “You gonna join us on the Unseen Path?”

“We came up with the name, you know. It sounded a lot better than the old one.”

“Lao doesn’t care for it much, but sh- hey!”

Tyr hadn’t meant to shove Vashimu so hard, but he didn’t want to talk to him either. Did they know his mother too? Did everyone have the ability to contact her except for him? His letters had never made it there. That or she’d just never written back. His fist hit the stone wall and chipped it.

He arrived back to Mezaporta so distracted by the thoughts in his head that he didn’t notice Adaline until she grabbed him from behind.

“So, how was the hunt?”

“We didn’t hunt. She brought me along to show me some ruins.”

“And she made it seem like such a big deal.” She gave him a small kiss on the back of the neck before moving around him. “So, did you get a new name for yourself then? A Dyura like me is bound to devour a Genprey like yourself.”

“Yeah,” Tyr said, staring off at Kokudriscol.

“Tyr, what is it?”

“Do you think the Ancients were weak?”

A curious look took over her face. “I don’t really think of them that often outside of Orion’s stories, but they built the first dragonators, and the towers. Even the switchaxe was recovered from designs found in their ruins. I don’t believe weaklings could do all that.”

“Yeah,” he said, his mind and voice distant. He couldn’t sort out his own head. The spheres. The ships. The signs that Lao had told him to test. “But… why did they disappear then?”

“They didn’t disappear, Tyr. They became humans, or the Wyverians. That’s just how things go.”

“So why don’t we have the same technology? Why did they give it up to become us?”

“I don’t know. No one knows. Why do you want to know all of a sudden? Did you see something in those ruins?”

“Yeah,” he repeated in that same distant voice.

“Show me?”

He shook his head, more slowly than he’d meant to. “Can I… ask you something first?”

“Anything, Tyr. You know that.”

He made the motions. They were simple, but he made them slowly to be sure. Two fingers down, then three up on the turn, and then a palm to the chest. T. Y. R. That’s what she’d taught him. It had to be what she’d said or else…

“Where in the world did you learn the royal summons?” Adaline’s face was awash with confusion now. “Don’t tell me Lao is some sort of important diplomat too?”

His hand fell.

“Tyr, what’s wrong? Why did you want to know about that sign?” Her desperation to cheer him up cracked the edges of her voice. “It’s nothing important, Tyr. It just means that someone has an important message for my father. Usually messengers use it when they’re out of breath, or if they have trouble with the language. That’s all.” His tears hit her cheek, and she clung to him tightly. “It’s not important,” she repeated.

It took some time for Tyr to find his voice again. “I was the one who stopped writing.”

“Stopped writing what?”

“It doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. Lao just wants to me to go out and look for answers to why the Ancients disappeared.”

“Why?”

“To save the world from the Elder Dragons.”

“That’s a lot to ask.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know!” It was the first time he’d ever snapped at her. The first time he’d really snapped at anyone since he’d left Nifila. The anger felt good. “Okay?”

“Okay.” She didn’t look at him. “Well, maybe we should go. If we find the answer, maybe the Guild would make you a Legend.”

“For finding an answer to a problem that might not even exist?”

“Well, you said it involved the Elder Dragons, right? So, if we go looking then maybe we’ll encounter one and you can become a Legend by slaying it.”

“I’m not just going to kill for no reason.  Besides, I’m still not at my full strength yet, I wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“But you might by the time we find one, right? Look at how far you’ve come. You took down the Jhen before.”

“With four ships, two cannons, and a Dragonator. Anyone could’ve done that.”

“But they didn’t. You did it, Tyr. You can do it. You have to.”

“I don’t know if I can,” he said. “I know you need me to, but I don’t think I can. I don’t know anything anymore.”

She shook her head furiously, blue hair lashing back and forth. “No. Don’t say that. You’re going to be a Legend and everything will be okay.”

“But what if I can’t?”

“You can.”

“What if I don’t?”

“Then we’ll keep trying. We’ll keep trying until you do and we can be together.”

“I mean what if I just don’t? What if I stop now and just… go home?”

She froze.

“I want to go home. I never wanted to leave. I miss my family and my life so much and it finally hurts to miss them. I just want to find a way to go back to them.”

“Being a Legend will do that. You can do anything when you’re a Legend.”

“Adaline.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“It’s your name.”

“No, not with you. I don’t want to be Adaline when I’m with you. I want to be Addy, because Addy doesn’t have to be a princess. She’s just yours, and no one cares about anything else.”

“And what about your family? What about Fahrenn? Didn’t you tell me tha-“

“I know what I said, but you can’t leave me.” Tears flowed hotly down her cheeks as she kissed him, again and again between every sentence. “I know I said I couldn’t be that selfish, but all I want is you. Just you. Only you. Forever. If I can just have you then the rest of the world can burn to the ground and I’ll be happy. I swear I’ll be happy and never regret a thing. Not even for a moment. Just please, please don’t leave me. Take me with you. Be angry at me. Lock me away in some private dungeon forever so everyone else thinks I’m dead, just so long as I’m yours. Please.”

                “Addy…” he managed before her lips silenced him again. He held her tightly, feeling every shudder as she tried to keep herself from breaking down. But she couldn’t keep kissing him forever. Her lips tripped over his soon enough, and she sobbed into his shoulder, shaking violently no matter how Tyr tried to hold her still.

Tyr didn’t say anything to her, just held her as close as he could and stroked her beautiful blue hair. He could almost taste the red heat of her tears whenever they touched his skin, and could feel every tiny stutter or choke as they threatened to tear out his heart. His stomach wasn’t just in knots, it was wound so tightly into such a tiny ball that he wasn’t certain he could have found it if its exact location weren’t so painfully obvious. He didn’t cry with her, because he would’ve cried about something else entirely.

She cried though. With all her fury and her grief. Without a clue in the world how to make the impossible situation better. Adaline cried and cried until there was nothing left, and then she cried because there was nothing left. She felt like the breath of a breeze could’ve broken her in half. But Tyr was still there, holding her, caressing her, and so she buried her face back into him, despite the feeling of his tear-and-snot-stained shirt against her skin.

“Can I tell you something?” he whispered soothingly.

Adaline couldn’t even nod her head without crying again. The tears came not because of all the terrible things she knew he would never say, but because of the one terrible thing she knew he would say. The worst thing he could say. And the moment she stopped crying he would say it and then she would cry again. So, she cried because she knew she was going to cry at something that hadn’t even happened. She felt so stupid, but that didn’t stop the sobs from squeezing her chest.

It didn’t take as long to stop crying the second time, but she was shaking harder now. Crying was a lot harder on a body than hunting. “Wh-wh-what…?” The rest of the sentence wouldn’t make it out. It was caught in her throat with another wave of tears, just waiting to get out.

“I love you.” That was it. That terrible and horrible and beautiful and wonderful and perfect and heartbreaking phrase. The one thing she knew he’d say, and just as she’d predicted she was bawling again at the sound. It was more painful than any wyvern bite or explosive. More painful than waiting for him to say it the first time had ever been, and more painful than it would ever be again. She wanted to hide in those words and never stop hearing them even as she sputtered and shook because of them. But there was nothing to hold onto but Tyr. She clung tighter and tighter to him, her knuckles bone white from the effort.

When she stopped crying again she could almost take a whole breath without wanting to curl into a ball for the rest of her life. Through those tiny breaths, she managed to tell him the right thing. “I love you too.” The words had all come out broken, in fifteen syllables instead of four, but she had done it. She didn’t break down that time, but she still cried. Her tears stung like fire sac fluid, and her body shook like the earth beneath the a Zorah’s feet.

Tyr just held her until she could finally bear to be more than an inch from him. and held her for a long while after that in silence.

“Did you mean it?”

“Of course.”

“Why are we here then?”

“Don’t be mad.”

“Addy...”

She swallowed hard. “When we were at dinner and you didn’t want to marry me, I didn’t know what to do. I wanted you, but I couldn’t let Fahrenn fall apart. I couldn’t be that selfish. But I couldn’t lose you, because that would have been worse. So, I… before I told everyone that I’d marry a Legend, I thought it up in my head. I thought of how I could escape and be with you, and make everyone think that I was being a good princess. And I was going to tell you, I swear I was, but then Sarah and Kean came along, and Kensei, and then…”

“You lied to me?”

“No!” she grabbed his shoulders, pinned them against the tree. Even if he hadn’t been sitting, it would’ve been difficult to escape. “No, I didn’t. I just didn’t tell you everything. So, you can’t leave me, Tyr. You can’t. You can’t because I didn’t do anything wrong. Not this time. You’re more important to me than anything has ever been, and I was just trying to keep you. Please. You have to see that.”

“I do, Addy. But why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I thought… I thought if I told you that you’d tell them. That you wouldn’t be able to keep it from them like I could. And they couldn’t know, Tyr. Not if we’re going to run. They can’t know.”

“Okay,” he said softly as Orion came trotting up.

“There you guys are. Hate to break up whatever’s about to happen here.” He gave them both a wink. “But we’ve finally gathered up the stuff we need to build a house. Or, well, probably. We’ve got bricks, anyways.”

“We’re leaving,” Tyr said.

“But… the bricks!”

“We’re going hunting Elder Dragons,” he continued.

“Sounds like a suicide run,” Orion said with a smile. “Count me in.”

“Tyr,” Adaline whispered to him, but he only squeezed her in response.

“Tell the others, Orion. We’ll sleep here tonight, resupply, but in the morning we’re going.”

“You wanna tell me what happened on that mountain so I know why?”

Tyr almost smiled. “I realized what was most-important to me.”

Kean almost exploded. “Where does he get the nerve?” he demanded. “He drags us to the bottom of the world, spends an hour on a mountain, and now we’re leaving.”

“Hey, I’m just the messenger,” Orion said with a shrug.

“He must have a reason for it,” Sarah added, grabbing Kean’s hand before he could rush off.

“He vacillates more than the wind.” He tugged off his gauntlet, leaving Sarah empty-handed. “Yes, everyone has a reason to follow him. And what about your reason for wanting to follow him? Do you still need to spend time with your sister, or have we finally had enough of her selfishness too?”

Sarah looked to Kensei and Orion, who were both pretending not to hear. One was much better at it than the other was. “She’s following her heart.”

“She should try following her mind for once.”

“Doesn’t she have the right to do what makes her happy?”

“An action cannot be judged based on how much it makes the individual happy, My Bride. I’ve told you that before. If we just let everyone d-“

“My name is Sarah.”

“Of course it is.”

“Use my name when you speak to me, Kean. We’re Untitled now.” She could feel her fist clenching.

“It is quite the gimmick for a squad, I’ll admit, but don’t tell me you actually believe in it.”

“I do.”

“I’m sorry then, Sarah. Is that better?”

It was hard to stay angry at him when he would bend like that. He didn’t bend when it was Tyr. If only he would’ve been stubborn with her in the same way, it would’ve all been so much easier. “Yes,” she admitted.

“Excellent. As I was saying, we can’t let everyone do what makes them the happiest, or else we might have to let killers go free, or hunters take down as many monsters as they please. It would be chaos.”

“But does her pursuit really hurt anyone? Some don’t get the chance to marry her, but they might not have anyways.”

“I suppose you’re right at that,” Kean admitted as he plucked up his fallen armor. “I’m just frustrated that it has to be him. He has no sense in him.” He took her cheeks in his palms and kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry for getting so angry.”

“It’s okay.”

“So, Orion, did he at least say where we’re going? Or what we’re going to be doing?”

“Hunting Elder Dragons. He’s got it into his head that they’re keeping some secret about the Ancients, I guess. Gonna save the world.”

Kean rubbed his head. “You can’t be serious.”

“Messenger,” Orion repeated as he finished setting up his tent. “But I couldn’t argue with him. He had one of his ‘Three Cephadromes at once ain’t enough’ looks. Easier to just let him lead when he’s like that.”

“You mean to say you follow him even though you don’t understand him and think his ideas are dangerous?”

“Basically.”

“And why?”

Orion gave half a laugh before he answered. “You know, the best stories are the ones you see for yourself. And if I wasn’t following Tyr, then I’d be back in Fahrenn chasing down Tigrex number thirty.”

“Kensei.” Kean turned, but remembered himself before he could go further. “What do you think of all of this? Surely, you can see reason.”

“Reason is in every direction. To miss it would be to miss the earth.”

“Precisely,” Kean said, though he wasn’t certain he meant it. “And so, surely, you have a better reason for following Tyr than wanting to see a show.”

“I do.”

The silence that followed was unexpected, so Kean pushed as gently as his upbringing had taught him to. “Would you enlighten us?”

Kensei took his katana by the sheathe, holding it up in front of him. “The center of a blade is not its balancing point. The hilt’s weight must be accounted for. But when the blade is long, the weight will not balance at the guard either.” He let his fingers fall away until the longsword was balanced on a single finger, barely moving. “Yet we hold our blades low, because our chakras change this balance further, each swing bringing pieces of our weapons in and out of their influence. My sword goes where I guide it, and I go where it guides me.”

“Yes,” Kean said, trying to stall for time.

“So, you follow Tyr for balance?” Sarah hazarded.

“The Spring quiets for no Winter,” he said. “I follow my path, and it is aligned with his. No more, no less.”

“Thank you for your honesty, Kensei. And so what of us, my Sarah? Are we going to continue following Tyr and the others around, or can we get back to our own lives? Loc Lac needs us much more than they do.”

“Just a little longer,” she lied.


	18. All Roads Lead There

The hunt for an Elder Dragon would not be an easy one. Lao had started them with three different rumors, but only one of them was less than a month old, and that was all the way in the New Continent. So, though it was older, they started close, but it was a dead end. They chased another, and ended up with nothing more to show than frostbite and a few decayed scales. There were always rumors, even in the tiniest villages there were rumors, but by the time the Untitled could follow them either the Elder had left, or it was never there in the first place.

Almost six months since they left Mezaporta they were no closer to any answers. The tension between Kean and Tyr, however, had risen to the boiling point.

“It’s gone on long-enough, Tyr.” Kean has his newly upgraded blade at Tyr’s throat. “We are turning back now.”

“You can go whenever you want to, Your Majesty,” Tyr spat the title at him, pushing his blade away. “You’re still free to go back and bother someone else anytime you like.”

“And you are free to go on this fool’s errand by yourself.”

“Is anyone here against their will?” Tyr asked, gesturing with sweeping arms. He didn’t give anyone the chance to answer though. “No. They’re all here by choice, Kean.”

“Following you on a wild Poogie chase, on the word of some lunatic in the desert that the Elders are the secret to saving the world. Do you realize how mad you sound?”

“Takes one to know one.”

The first hit took Tyr by surprise, but the second he was ready for, rolling back and out of the way.

“Stop it!” Sarah and Adaline shouted, but the boys weren’t listening. Tyr swept his blade in a long cut through the air where Kean should have been. Kean lunged in from the left. Tyr smashed up into his nose with the hilt of his katana. Kean kicked out as he leapt back. The forest swam around them with a breeze, and they came in for a second clash, then a third.

Orion stepped between them. “That’s enough, guys. Come on.” Kean used him as a ramp, leaping off Orion’s shoulders to slam his blade downwards. Tyr’s foot would’ve been impaled if it weren’t a hunting blade. He batted Kean away with his counter, his chakra flickering into white as he did so.

“Is that all you’ve got?!” Tyr dashed after the retreating Kean, but Kean’s sudden shoulder check knocked him off balance. The monoblade stabbed once, twice, three times before Tyr could push himself out of range. Kean smirked, but his face was still red.

“How long do you think they’ll be at it this time?” Adaline asked Sarah as she settled against a nearby tree.

“Shouldn’t we stop them instead of waiting to find that out?”

“You saw what happened with Orion.”

“He does have a point, doesn’t he?”

“Then go home.” Kean and Tyr had just clashed in the air, each knocking the other back into the trees they’d leapt off of.

“Are those really the only two options?”

“You’ve really waited six months to ask that?”

Orion sighed. “Either of you know how to stop them?”

“Sarah thinks that quitting will work.”

“Tyr doesn’t quit,” Orion replied. “Doesn’t even know if he knows the meaning of the word.”

Adaline was very quiet on that one.

“I just think that we might have to approach this situation more intelligently.”

 “I’m open to suggestions,” Orion said as he watched the fight. Tyr’s chakra was flowing yellow now, and the trees of the forest were feeling it as much as Kean was. Kean was glad for the notches Tyr was cutting into them only because they helped his armor get past the trees. The one time spikes were a disadvantage, but he hadn’t had the time to change when they’d diverted into the trees out of the blue.

“Well, we keep chasing the most-recent rumors, right?”

“Yeah. They’ve got the latest information.”

“Maybe we should be chasing the older ones.”

Adaline scoffed. “Right. ‘There was a Valstrix spotted fifty years ago in the area. Hasn’t been seen since. You wanna check it out?’”

“Not like that, Adaline.” Sarah was struggling to put it into words, despite having thought about it for days. “But, like those stories you tell, Orion. Don’t they mention where Elders are supposed to be?”

“I mean, the only one I know that mentions specifically was Schrade, but that story is about how someone drove off the Black Fatalis living there.”

“What about the Tower?”

“Hey!” Adaline shouted, which didn’t slow down Tyr’s spinning onslaught at all. “Hey!” she tried again. Tyr’s chakra flickered under the pressure of successive roundslashes, and his blade jerked to a halt halfway into a tree. Kean leapt at the opportunity, and Tyr let go of his blade. He grabbed Kean’s sword arm and brought him to the ground.

“Worth a shot,” Orion said. “What do you think, Kensei?”

He looked like he might’ve been sleeping, standing against the tree without a care in the world. He hadn’t even looked up when Tyr and Kean started fighting. Rather, it didn’t look like he had. It was impossible to see his eyes beneath his wide-brimmed helmet. “A stream’s course changes. A lake’s does not.”

“Exactly,” Sarah said, a smile breaking across her face. “So, the lake is easier to find, and then you have the edges you need to find the stream.”

“Okay, so where is the Tower?” Adaline asked.

Tyr and Kean were exchanging punches now, rolling on the ground and only able to get up to their knees before being brought down again. Kean’s nose was bleeding, but Tyr’s left eye was closed tightly.

“There’s a few of them. But the specific one from the story? I don’t really know. The story isn’t exactly heavy on details.”

“I have seen it,” Kensei said. No one knew how to respond, especially not in a moment of such clarity from him. “Where Sol emerges from the sea of leaves which hides its home.” He finally looked up, his head tilting eastwards. “We follow the storm.”

As he finished, he walked over to where Tyr and Kean were struggling to keep fighting to any real effect. His hand snatched Kean’s raised fist and held it will barely any effort. “A wise victor knows when to bow.” His foot caught Tyr’s wrist before he could deliver a blow himself. “I bow,” he said firmly.

“I bow,” Tyr repeated, sinking into the grass.

Kean yanked at his arm, but could not break the wyverian’s shocking grip. “I bow,” he growled.

Tyr and Kean had bruises for a few days, and bruised egos for a bit longer. They didn’t fight again, but Tyr was distracted the further east they went. It took Sarah a week to put it together. They were going to pass by Nifila. She didn’t know how they’d missed it before in all their searching. Her geography wasn’t as solid as Adaline’s, and so she wondered how long she’d known.

He stopped arguing with Kean entirely by the time they were only two days out. And when the first hint of Nifila appeared on the horizon he stopped in his tracks. Adaline squeezed his hand as she stopped with him. “We’ll go around.”

“No,” he said. “We need supplies. I can… I can stay outside.”

“This is your village?” Kean asked, eyeing the black walls. “It is… quite nice, or the area is, I should say.”

“Paradise,” Tyr replied. “I’ll set up camp here. My parents… they’d be more than happy to house you all for the night if Nevvy doesn’t have room.”

“I’ll stay with you,” Adaline said, almost before he’d finished his sentence.

“Well, no offense, Tyr, but I could use a bed.” Orion gave him a wide but sheepish grin. “Plus, meeting your folks is something I don’t want to miss.”

“They’re lovely people,” Sarah said. “Should we tell them you’re here?”

“No.”

“What? Why not?”

“They won’t ask.”

“What in the world do you mean they won’t ask?” Orion’s mood had soured in an instant, and there was a bitter bite to his voice.

“They won’t ask,” Tyr repeated. “They don’t need to. It’s not important.”

“Not important?” Orion’s voice could’ve cut clean through a Gravios. “Tyr, you’ve said a lot of stupid things, but you’d better have a good explanation for that one.”

“Does it really matter?”

“Yes, it does!” he shouted. “I would kill for a few seconds with my child. Kill, Tyr. So, you’d better have a better excuse than that, or I’m marching you to the gates right now, and the Guild will have to pull out a Strixing Elder Dragon to stop me.”

Tyr paused for a few moments, eyeing Orion as though he were, for the first time, trying to determine who would win in a fight between them. Eventually, he sighed. “My brother was seventeen at the time and I was fourteen. I hadn’t done much as a hunter at that point, and he was, well, he wasn’t interested in hunting. He was strong, and smart, and everyone loved him. I looked up to him, and even though I didn’t want to be him, I wanted him to be proud of me. I woke up one morning and he wasn’t there anymore.”

“What?” Orion asked, his fists unclenching.

“He left. Without a word to anyone, without a clue that he was even thinking of it. He just left, and no one has seen him since. I don’t look for him, and he isn’t looking for us because he’d know where to find us.”

“That doesn’t explain wh-“

“We made a deal, Orion. My parents and I.” He looked up at the sky. “We don’t ask where the others are. We don’t need anyone to tell us. We’re always together, because that’s the easiest way to live with him being gone.”

Orion shook his head. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” he said. “But I guess… you should still go to those walls and shout at the top of your lungs. Your parents deserve that much.”

“They deserve a lot more than that,” Tyr replied as Adaline hugged his arm to her. “But if I go back and see them, I won’t be able to leave again, and the Guild won’t let me do that.”

“I’m still gonna tell them,” Orion said. “Even if they don’t ask, I’m gonna tell them.”

“I can’t stop you,” Tyr said with a sad smile.

“You’re damn right you can’t.”

At the gate, Ehrin was working again. “Good Dancer!” he called down. “Is that you?”

“Yes.”

“What are you doing back here? Is Tyr with you?”

“No,” she said, so softly that even those near her barely heard. “No.” Louder now, loud-enough to compensate for the apparent silence before. “He’s still not allowed back, so he’s…” She wasn’t as confident as Orion had been about telling his parents. But Ehrin wasn’t even blood. Looking at Orion, she waited for him to say something.

“Darn,” Ehrin called before he could. “Well, come on in. I’m sure everyone will be glad to see you again.”

Being back inside Nifila’s wall was like coming home to Fahrenn. Everything was familiar, and touched with a certain nostalgia that she didn’t think she would feel. How long had it been? Two years? Not even that, and she’d only been there for a month.

“Oh, Dancer, dear,” Nevvy said, emerging from a conversation she’d been dominating a moment before. “It’s so good to see you again. I hope you’ve been well. But, what am I saying, of course you’ve been well. You look well. Well, that doesn’t mean that you’ve done well the whole time, of course, but I should think that it at least means that you’ve ended up well, especially since you’re travelling with, am I allowed to tell them? I would hate to tell them if they don’t already know, though I would hope they would know if you’re travelling together. Oh, what a silly thing to assume that just because you’ve arrived together means that you’ve been travelling together for any length of time. Are you even travelling together? And, if so, who are each of you? In fact, even if you’re not travelling together I would rather love to know since, as the Village Chief, it’s my duty to know these things. So, if you wouldn’t mind?”

Sarah stifled a giggle in the sudden and penetrating silence. Orion was still attempting to catch up, and Kean was formulating a very long reply when Kensei spoke. “I am no longer the man I was then. You may call me who I am, Kensei of the Untitled.”

“The Untitled?” Nevvy was uncharacteristically quiet about the word. “You’re a member of Tyr’s squad then? Are all of you?”

Kensei nodded. Kean, for once, didn’t disagree.

Nevyra considered this for a moment, and then waved a young child over to her. “Do you know where Mallory and her husband are?”

“Prob’ly home, I think.”

“Thank you,” she said. “Would you all mind coming along with me? I hate to impose, and I’m certain that you’re tired from your travels, but there will be room to sit and talk at Mallory’s home, and she’ll want to hear from all of you, I’m sure. But, more than that, I was heading there anyways, and so this will give me the perfect excuse to take down two birds with one stone. An odd phrase, you know. Even without a slinger it wouldn’t be very difficult to do if you had a sufficiently sized stone. But I suppose that’s why it’s a phrase. Everyone knows that most stones aren’t of sufficient size. Well, at least not most of the stones I’ve ever met. I suppose the walls of Nifila are stones though, but they’re hardly the usual. At least, I don’t believe that they are. I’m not sure. I haven’t experienced stones in many places, so I suppose that it could just be that we’re in area where stones are smaller than usual. But I feel like it would’ve been something that someone would’ve mentioned to us by now. You know,” she took a pause only long-enough to knock on the door. “They might have said something like ‘But, my, the stones here are quite small compared to ones we’re used to in Dondruma.’ Not that we get many visitors from Dondruma, of course. It’s practically the other side of the world, really. Mallory, it’s so good to see that you’re home. You know Sarah, don’t you? She was called Good Dancer when she was here last, of course, but she’s a member of Tyr’s Untitled Squad now, so she goes by her name instead. And… and umm…” Her voice broke.

Mallory smiled kindly, gesturing several times to Nevyra. The Chief nodded, and went inside with a word. Mallory gestured silently for the others to follow. She was just as Sarah remembered her. Her hair the same dark color as Tyr’s, her eyes that perfect mix of blue and hazel, but it was her smile that she couldn’t escape. Inside, after a few moment, Nevyra was back to herself again.

“I truly am sorry about all of that,” she said. “It’s still difficult to speak about Tyr sometimes. Wyverians live so long that, in some ways, it still seems like yesterday for me. It’s true that I’ll eventually outlive the memories of many people I’ve met, but recent events are certainly fresh for a long time. I don’t know if all Wyverians are like me though. I’m not certain that all of any species are like any of the others, but I remember so much, so clearly. But listen to me ramble on about myself. I should really let all of you tell us more about yourselves. You said that you were members of Tyr’s squad, yes? The Untitled? It’s quite the little group, from what I hear. Unbeatable, though given the small numbers that’s not entirely unheard of. Only six registered members, which means that we’re only missing one of you besides Tyr, yes? Of course. What am I even saying? I suppose my question is whether or not the rumors of the sixth member are true? Your sister, Sarah?”

“Yes. Adaline. I wish you could meet her.”

“Where are she and Tyr? No. Nevermind, of course you don’t need to tell me that. It’s probably better if I don’t know. In fact, don’t tell me. Really, it would be for the best. Though if Mallory and Exave want to know then I’m certain they’ll tell you sooner or later. Or, well, maybe they won’t. Has Tyr taught any of you their sign language? No. I doubt he did. Why would he? Not much use outside of Nifila, of course, and why would he ever think that you would be back here, of all places? It’s not like Nifila is a major stop along any roads. Of course, it’s a major stop along this road, but this road hardly leads anywhere but here, and I suppose a place or two down the way. Oh, what are those towns out there on the coast? Not Moga, of course, that’s the other direction entirely, but I suppose it does lead there eventually. No, I suppose it doesn’t. It leads to the Sea of Sand, yes? Have you been there, Sarah? Or perhaps your companions? Oh, no. I fear I’ve gotten off track. The towns on the coast. Eppau and Yukumo, yes? Oh, it certainly doesn’t matter. Someone will tell me eventually. So, why are you here?”

Sarah knew that Kean had been waiting to speak, and so she let him this time. “We are travelling to the Tower of the Ancients, to the east. We are,” he continued, a bit more forcefully so that Nevyra couldn’t go on another whirlwind. “Looking for it to investigate some of its mysteries. I’m sure you’ve heard the stories surrounding it.”

To Nevyra’s surprise, Mallory signed several words to her before she had the chance to respond herself. “Mallory, whatever does that mean?” she asked before her attention snapped. “Oh, yes. Mallory just asked if you were walking the hidden path? No, the Unseen Path. A strange question. I’m beginning to think that I don’t know the signs as well as I thought I did, but given her look it seems that I was right after all. Would you mind explaining it to me? I’m terribly curious. Not that I’m not terribly curious about everything, as you might have guessed, but Mallory asking such a mysterious question is certainly out of character for her, and so I’m even more curious than usual, which is saying something, if you’ll pardon the pun.”

“We are,” Kean nodded. “Though we are not following it as directly as we might like.”

Another series of signs which Nevvy translated. “’It has never been a direct path to follow, but you will adjust.’ What a conversation of riddles!” She clapped her hands together. “Oh, I’ll be thinking up explanations to this for years to come, surely. Will you give me any more hints? Perhaps a clue? No. You’ve probably already given me more than I should need to figure it out. Or maybe you haven’t. How am I to know without trying to solve it though? Oh, puzzles are so much fun. Do you enjoy puzzles, Kean? It was Kean, wasn’t it? That’s the problem with having such a long memory. Long things seem short, but short things seem so much shorter. It’s like you’ve just told me, and I only thought I heard it. But I do believe it was Kean. And then Orion. And then Kensei. And your sister was Adaline? No, Adaline,” she corrected her pronunciation. “And then Tyr… How is Tyr?”

No one knew exactly what to say, but that had never stopped Orion before. “He’s,” he started defiantly, but it didn’t last. “He’s doing pretty well, you know. I mean, he got kicked out of the city guard, but he’s not letting it get him down or anything.”

“And leading a squad of his own, of course. It so-Oh!” Nevyra jumped as Mallory placed a hand on her leg. “Right. Yes. Do continue. Sorry.”

“He’s a capable fighter,” Kean said, which drew some attention. “Even in his condition, he is better than many longsword users I’ve encountered.”

“Best I’ve ever seen,” Orion added. “Well, I mean, present Legends excluded.”

Kensei gave a little nod, but said nothing. It spoke volumes to Mallory and Exave; there were tears in their eyes.

“And he is healthy as can be expected,” Kean continued. “Physically as capable as any hunter, and perhaps moreso than some.”

“And he’s, well, what would call what he’s got going on with Adaline?” Orion took a look at the rest of the squad. “I mean, can they be dating if she’s made her announcement of her qualifications?”

Sarah bit back her first response, and even her second. “They’re,” she finally managed, when no one else did first. “They’re together. And that’s part of the reason we’re on this quest of ours.”

“What?” Nevyra said, her smile a mirror of the one Tyr’s parents were wearing. “How long? How serious are they? And I don’t expect details, of course, why in the world would you know those? Unless you do. I suppose I shouldn’t assume that the traditions in our little village are the same ones everywhere. Nor that Tyr would follow them if he ended up liking the way Fahrenn did things better. But I suppose I just think of Tyr as being here still, in many ways, and so I’m sorry if I offended any of you. But, really,” Nevyra’s leg was being squeezed again. “Please, tell us. We had almost given up hope on him dating seriously again.”

Orion, gingerly, cut in, since he was the only one that had been there. “They’ve been together, well, I guess it depends on which of the rumors are true, but at least since Loc Lac and the Jhen Mohran.”

“The Jhen Mohran?!”

The cycle continued. Everything they revealed about Tyr, even little things, drew out more questions, and more answers, but never the question. Kean was pleasant, even complimentary, and Sarah found herself holding back more than she thought he did. By the time the sun was setting they felt like they’d each personally recounted the entirety of the last two years, except for Kensei, of course. True to Tyr’s predictions, Mallory and Exave wouldn’t think of letting them stay anywhere else, and they didn’t ask about Tyr. There were four beds, but in two rooms. Sarah and Kean were in Tyr’s old room with Kensei, on a narrow bed, but it was comfortable-enough.

“Thank you for today,” Sarah said as they settled in. Kensei had gone for a walk with Nevyra, so they had the room to themselves for a bit.

“What do you mean?” Kean asked.

“I… I sometimes forget just how wonderful you are. You didn’t say a single bad thing about Tyr.”

Kean paused and sat down on the second bed. “You thought I would tell a grieving mother and father, as a guest in their home, that I think their son is foolish and trying to ruin an entire noble line for his personal pleasure?”

Sarah was glad they were whispering, but she still felt that someone could hear every word. “No, I just… I forgot for a minute because you’ve been fighting so much.”

“Whatever else I might be, Sarah, I was raised noble. Putting aside personal squabbles for the greater good is something I have to do every day.”

“I know.”

“Do you? It’s been six months. Seven if you count our trip through the Sekumaeya. Almost eight since we left Loc Lac. Why are we still here?”

“I told you, it’s…”

“It’s because you love him.”

The silence was deafening. In it, Sarah’s heartbeat felt like thunder. She sat down involuntarily. Kean continued when she didn’t respond.

“Don’t deny it. If you can only do me one favor then don’t deny it.”

Sarah bit her lip and nodded slowly. She hadn’t been able to admit it to anyone, though she knew Kensei knew. She just hadn’t actually admitted it. Hadn’t said it. That had been enough to help her convince herself that maybe it wasn’t true. That maybe she could get past it. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be,” he said. “We didn’t marry for love, and though I would like to think I could’ve convinced you by now, I don’t expect it. But we need to go home now. Our people need us, and Tyr isn’t going to help us help them. You can love him all you want, but we need to go home.”

“I can’t.” Her voice was even softer than a whisper, but Kean could hear her in that perfect silence.

“Yes, you can. You’ve done it once, and you will have to do it again, Sarah. You are stronger than some heartsick schoolgirl.”

“I’m not,” she said. “I thought I was, but the thought of leaving him makes me want to scream. Seeing him with Adaline is hard-enough, but tonight I won’t sleep at all knowing that she’s out there with him instead of me.”

“What has he even done to deserve your love?” Sarah heard the implied second question just as loudly as if it had been said.

“Nothing,” she admitted. “He was kind to me, and that’s not a good reason, I know. But you can’t know what it’s like until someone does all of the things that everyone’s done a thousand times before and it somehow means something new. That’s how he makes me feel, Kean. Everything he does makes me feel like it’s the first time, even if it’s not the first time he’s done it. I can’t let go of that feeling.”

“So, you would have us go on and on and on until what? What do you hope to accomplish with this? If he succeeds, you lose him to Adaline forever. If he fails, he’s likely dead. And if somehow a Legend decides to marry your sister before either of those outcomes, then you are still married to me, and you being here won’t change that.” He sighed heavily, and then shifted so he could kneel in front of her. “But if it will get you to come home then I offer you this.

“If Tyr fails in his goals and cannot marry Adaline. If he is still alive, and if he wants to be with you the same way you want to be with him, then I will let you be with him. We will still be married, because we don’t have that choice anymore, but I will let you have him. Just come home with me, Sarah, and when this is all over we can find him and see what he thinks. Does that sound fair to you?”

“I…” She had never dreamed of a moment like this. She’d had nightmares of him finding out, of the yelling, and the hate, and the fall of her father’s reign. Sometimes, when she was particularly hopeful, she thought he might just leave without a word. “Can I think about it? Just until the Tower, and I promise not a day longer.”

“Sarah, what exactly do you think the other options are?”

Kensei knocked at the door, and entered after a few seconds without objection. He bowed to them before going to bed, but didn’t say a word. Even so, that was the end of it. For the first night in a very long time, Kean didn’t sleep with his arm around her.

Neither of them brought it up again in the morning, but Orion stormed up to Tyr when they got close-enough. “We’re going to go make you a Legend,” he told Tyr. “And then we’re gonna find your conga-for-brains older brother, and we’re gonna stuff him in a barrel, and we’re gonna roll him all the way back here.”

Tyr smiled. “Yeah?”

 Orion was already walking off. “Because your mom makes the best nulberry pie in the whole damn world, and I can’t possibly go back there without a gift.”


	19. Into the Heavens

They’d had to buy the boats, because no one in Eppau was allowed to come to the island without a special permit from the Guild. In truth, it was more like having bought two houses, because the Eppaunese lived on their boats. The only solid building in the whole village had been the Chief’s house, and even then they’d almost missed it. But it wasn’t hard to spot the Tower. Even before they saw the island itself, the stone column stretched up into a swirling abyss of clouds, its top lost to the sky. It may as well have been an Elder Dragon for the twinge of fear and doubt it left in the bottom of everyone’s stomachs.

“So, we want to climb all the way up that thing, huh?” Orion asked. “You’re sure there’s not just an Elder or two we could take down here?”

“Didn’t they call you the Climbing Captain in the guard?” Sarah asked with a teasing edge to her voice.

“Yeah, but I climbed monsters, not Towers that reach up past the limits of the known world.”

 “Speaking of which,” Kean said, drawing his blade. “Something big is coming this way. Two somethings.”

The creature that splashed up out of the waves was massive, a golden sailing fish that dwarfed their boats in size. They’d heard stories of big fish, but the Lagiacrus that launched after it, snapping its ebony jaws around its airborne prey, was much larger by far. The spined leviathan dove back into the tumbling waves with a crackle of electric energy.

“Son of a Kut Ku,” Orion said. “Was that Lagi black?”

“It was,” Kean replied. “An Abyssal Lagiacrus. If that’s the caliber of opponent we’re up against, we’d best prepare.”

“Just how bad is an Abyssal compared to a normal one?” Tyr asked. “I’ve never really fought one.”

“A Lagi is about as powerful as a Los,” Adaline explained.

“And the Abyssal is more like the Silver Los,” Kean finished.

Tyr looked distant, but only for a moment before he caught Sarah’s gaze. “Well, then nobody go for the aerial stab.” He chuckled once, but no one else laughed.

Their landing wasn’t smooth, but the welcoming party was worse.

The first of the beasts to emerge from the trees wasn’t there. The trees bent aside, the sand splashed, but whatever it was wasn’t actually there. “What the…” Orion began, but a second invisible creature had pounced through, and the beasts collided. Their collision sparked both into existence, a furious mass of silver fur. A perfect mixture of Felyne and scalebet, their combined roars stunned the Untitled, but all of them were moving before the beasts recovered. Neither of the pseudowyverns attacked them. Instead, they continued to blink in and out of view as they fought, clawing, swiping, and whipping with their tails.

“What kind of Nargas are those?” Tyr asked himself as he watched the creatures clash.

“Tyr!” Kean shouted. “Come! We run while we can!”

And so they ran towards the Tower. They were hardly out of range of the twin Nargacugas when a terrible chorus of cracking trees signaled, even before Kean did, that there was another beast coming towards them. The group barely had time to leap free of the crimson Tigrex’s path. The rampaging beast didn’t just break through trees; the trees exploded with fiery bursts at the pseudowyvern’s touch.

“AND a blast-element Tigrex?” Orion shouted, pivoting to face the raging foe. “What in the world do they feed the monsters on this island?”

“Whatever it is,” Tyr said, “It smells like Legend material, no?” He rolled under the Tigrex’s leap, his blade coming up against the massive tail.

“We shouldn’t be wasting our time!” Kean was a distance back, close to Sarah and her volley of arrows.

“Then you keep running. I’m here to become a Legend.”

“You fool, we need to save our strength!”

Tyr leapt out of the way of the Tigrex, rolling to put some distance between them. “We’re here to take down an Elder, right?” He narrowly dodged past the Tigrex again, but an explosive burst hit him mid step. When he got back to his feet, Kensei was drawing the wyvern’s attention with deep cuts into its wings. “So, either we can take down opponents like they do, or we’re dead.”

“Intelligence is knowing when not to fight!” But Kean’s reason was drowned out by the roar which shattered trees.

The Molten Tigrex was its own worst enemy in the jungle environment, but it was also no friend to the team. Adaline was the worst-off at first. Her aerial maneuvers suffered from the shifting canopy, and when the path was cleared the blasts of splinters from downed trees pelted her and forced her eyes shut at several crucial moments. Orion wasn’t in a much better position, occasionally being blasted off the pseudowyvern’s back by the explosive powder flaking off its scales.

The downed trees slowed movement, and the explosions shifted them whenever they didn’t simply break them into pieces. It was like fighting on a rockslide, and more than a few times everyone was on their knees when they needed to be striking or evading. Tyr suffered the first major blow. A spinning tree trunk whacked him into the Tigrex’s open jaws. This breed’s teeth weren’t as sharp, but the flint-like clash made certain he shot away like he’d been sneezed out.

Sarah’s shots whistled into the blood red body, but it felt like the beast was hardly slowing down. It barreled towards her, shoving fallen trees aside like twigs. She jumped onto the end of one just as the Tigrex slammed onto the far end, rocketing herself into the air with Adaline. It was the first time in a while that she’d been airborne in an actual fight, and it took her a moment to remember how to flip herself over. A quick charge. Her arrow split three ways as it rained down onto the Tigrex. A solid hit, but she landed on a still-moving tree and toppled backwards.

Though she was up in moments, it wasn’t fast-enough, and she found herself pinned between fallen trunks. She could still see the raging wyvern, her comrades fighting it, but she couldn’t possibly free herself. Kean was by her side before she remembered to look for him, straining against the massive weight. It didn’t budge, and the two of them together was too enticing for the Tigrex to pass up. It leapt, crashing into the fallen tree which crushed Sarah just a bit more. It was brutally painful, and Sarah’s vision swam with the lack of oxygen.

An explosive burst ripped the pressure from her back, and Sarah collapsed into the space it left, just out of the reach of the Tigrex’s snapping jaws. Another explosion, just over her head. The heat burned, but she was able to roll onto her feet unsteadily.

“Saving you,” Adaline’s voice came just before her axe hooked between Sarah’s legs and shot her upwards. Sarah had never been more glad for Peace Ore in her life, but below, Adaline had to fall flat to avoid the Tigrex’s latest charge.

She spun back to her feet and rocketed herself after the Molten Tigrex with a burst. Blast Dashes had once been the purview of gunlances, but no one would’ve ever guessed it the way Adaline lashed into the tail with enough force to finally separate it.

The Tigrex should’ve been furious, but as it scrambled to its feet it only growled deeply before turning to trample off into the jungle again.

“There,” Tyr said, panting a bit. “That wasn’t so b-“

A screech from above revealed n Azure Ratahlos descending on them. “Tyr, get out of there, now!” Kean shouted.

Tyr laughed, his blade still humming yellow. “It’s just a Los. I can even handle this one myself if you need a break.”

His confidence didn’t last. As he ducked to avoid the Los’s first blow, he could feel the rumble beneath his feet. A brute wyvern, its tail a flaming, smoking blade, and its mouth a cavern to the underworld, came charging into the clearing. It slammed its greatsword-like tail into the ground mere inches from Tyr, and the logs he’d been standing on burst into flames where the tail connected.

“Now can we run?” Kean shouted, but Tyr was stuck between the battling wyverns. The Los swooped in, poisonous talons tearing through the air. The Glavenus slashed again and again, unrelenting in its assault. If the ground had only been clear, there might have been an opening, but each gap Tyr found was closed by a fireball or a mass of wyvern.

“Tyr!” Adaline shouted as she rushed in to save him. She caught the Glav’s tail, let it whip her around and slid off next to him. “Come on!”

He saw the twin blasts of fire emerging from both throats. “Get down!” Slamming into her, both only narrowly avoided becoming as scorched as the trees on any side. They pulled themselves up, and found that the two rampaging wyverns had moved off, the Los circling above while the Glav roared up at it.

They didn’t wait.

Tyr and Adaline rushed away from the warring wyverns, and by the time they stopped they’d nearly run themselves over a sudden cliff. 

“This island, huh?” Tyr laughed.

“It’s not funny,” Kean said from behind them.

“The trees must grow like weeds to keep up,” he continued, undisturbed.

“That or something has the monsters more agitated than usual. An Elder just might be nearby.”

“Don’t monsters usually flee when there’s an Elder?” Adaline asked.

“Usually isn’t always,” Kean replied. “And the monsters here are a class above any other, as you saw. They might not know what it means to fear Elder Dragons.”

“Wouldn’t that be something,” Orion said. “You think I can get me some of that?”

“The tail I cut off is back there if you want it,” Adaline said sweetly.

“I think I’m gonna try the fruit first. Might be something to that.”

They followed the cliffside, listening for any sound of more monsters. They were sore, even after the aid of some potions, but herbs grew everywhere, so there was always more to gather and mix. The roars from the trees were always just barely far-enough off to raise concern, but the beasts avoided the cliff as much as the Untitled stuck to it. An hour later the cliff face sloped down gradually enough that they could slide down it.

Kean, the least damaged of the group, went first. As he went down his heightened awareness from his armor lit the lower forest up with sound and smells. They were everywhere, and there were so many that he could barely keep track of those closest to him. It seemed that the aversion to the cliff wasn’t shared by monsters at the base. The space he slid into was only meters from a sleeping monster. And there were more close by. There hadn’t been any other way, and a quick survey didn’t leave many options for continuing either, and so he reluctantly signaled for the others to follow him, hushing them as they came down.

“Large wyverns,” he whispered. “We go around while they sleep.”

The beast was, indeed, massive. It looked like a spikier Rathian, if such a thing was possible, but it was easily twice the size. Its orange spikes stood out as a sharp warning against anyone who might get close. They crept around, giving it as wide of a berth as they could, but there was another sleeping nearby, and then another, and no better way than through the middle.

“As long as we’re qui-“ Orion stepped onto a fallen branch, snapping it cleanly.

The beasts reared their heads at once, three of them all staring at the party with tired eyes. The largest of the three gave a warning roar, and with nowhere to run, the Untitled drew their weapons. Two monsters at once was bad-enough. Three was going to hell. But something was off.

The wyverns, whatever they were, weren’t getting up. They weren’t attacking. Instead, they were watching the hunters, waiting for something. “Whoever is doing whatever you’re doing,” Orion said. “Keep doing it. I like not needing to fight things.”

“Do you… think they’re tame?” Adaline hazarded.

“They don’t seem hostile, at least. Maybe they’re herbivores, like Larinoths?” Sarah asked.

“Not with those teeth,” Kean said. “But I suggest we not give them any reason to change their minds on not eating us. Put away your weapons.”

Everyone did so, but Tyr wasn’t moving back like the rest. “Tyr,” Kean hissed. “Come on. Now isn’t the time for whatever inane thoughts you might have in that head of yours.”

Tyr stared at the largest of the wyverns, meeting its gaze directly. It blinked slowly at him, as though observing an unexpected bluebird. Then, apparently having decided they weren’t a threat, the large beasts lowered their heads and went back to sleep.

When they had cleared them, and in a rare moment of peace of the island, Kean whirled on him, slamming Tyr up against a tree. “What the hell was that? Were you trying to get us killed?”

“No.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It didn’t look like it was going to hurt us. I guess I just didn’t see the harm.”

“And if they’d attacked suddenly?”

“Then we’d be having this conversation over their dead bodies instead.”

“You don’t have infinite stamina. None of us do. Even if we can keep finding what we need to heal, we need to rest or our bodies will give out on us. You can’t just fight everything that comes across your path. You’re going to get us all killed.”

“Tyr,” Adaline said, snapping both their heads in her direction. “He’s right. We can’t keep fighting everything. We have to be smart about this or we won’t make it to the Tower.”

“And if we can’t fight off a few of these, what chance will we have against an Elder?” Tyr asked.

“What length is your finger?” Kensei asked, and Tyr wasn’t certain how to answer, but when Kensei didn’t continue, he had no choice but to guess.

“I suppose it’s a few centimeters, bu-“

“The distance between us?”

“A few meters.”

“The length of a Rathalos?”

“Over a dozen meters, wh-“

“How tall is the Tower?”

“No one knows, that’s th-“

“And the Kirin?”

“I don’t know!” he shouted. “I don’t know, okay?”

Kensei nodded to himself, ignoring Tyr’s escalation. “What a gift, the human mind, it can measure even things it knows nothing about.”

Tyr’s muscles relaxed as he sighed. Even his head dropped a bit. “Alright. Alright. If everyone’s against it then we’ll run.”

“Finally, some sense,” Kean said. He took a look at the Tower, now infinitely bigger than it had seemed when they landed, but still so far away. “It looks like it’ll still be at least an hour away, but that’s assuming we can keep pace in a straight line. It will likely take us at least twice that, perhaps more if there are unavoidable encounters.”

“What are waiting for then?” Tyr asked, and Kean stopped him again.

“How about making certain everyone else is actually ready to go?” Kean turned back. “Is everyone stocked on potions and energy drinks?” A chorus of nods later, Kean let go of Tyr. “Now, we go.” Kean took off ahead of Tyr, finally feeling in his element. After months of following Tyr’s haphazard ways, they were finally starting to see reason.

They moved slowly, keeping a pace that Tyr hadn’t in years. Kean’s ability to sense incoming monsters was invaluable, even if there was always a threat nearby, and so his senses were working overtime. That constant presence flooding the area was also prickling at the back of their necks, and getting stronger the closer they got to the Tower. It made them shiver, and even Kensei kept his hand close to his blade.

It was impossible to move silently, but it was just barely possible to move with less noise than the larger fights going on nearby. Relying on others to keep watch wasn’t Kean’s favorite method of hunting, but his body was beginning to fight against the constant barrage of smells, sights, and sounds that usually made him perfect for it. The others weren’t any more comfortable with it. There was always some noise that echoed suddenly, or a flash of unexpected shadows. The slightest breeze that ruffled a leaf was suspect to being a new and powerful opponent. The softest sound a potential signal that they’d stepped into a trap. The shifting shade of the canopy almost didn’t give away the Wikoatl.

Kean dived, but the snake wyvern was too quick. Its tail lashed around Kean and launched him upwards before the rest of the party could draw their weapons. Barreling after him him, its multi-hued wings shifted through the color spectrum now that it had given up its camouflage.

Kean tucked himself into a ball, knowing his spiked armor would do more for him than the sword in his hand. Below, Sarah was firing upwards, her arrows only barely fast-enough to catch up with the beast. The Wikoatl snapped its jaws around Kean and attempted to swallow him whole. In the saliva-filled  darkness Kean stabbed wildly in any direction he could as he flailed for a hold. The creature bucked and choked before spitting him back towards the ground, almost fifty meters below.

Then it dove into the trees, its shifting wings blending it with the swaying trees effortlessly. Even knowing where it was, Tyr nearly lost sight of it twice. When it lunged again it was closer than it should have been. Orion only barely managed to grab hold before he was yanked back into that shimmering camouflage. Though he was barely clinging on, his body provided an excellent point of reference to track the wyvern as it barreled through the trees and took to the sky once more.

Sarah was reminded, looking up as she aimed a piercing shot, that nature was so much more beautiful when it was deadly. The Wikoatl’s immense body extended out like a whip. At one end, its head, shaped like a wide hood with a blade-like horn coming back over that hood from the nose. At the other, a tail that split into almost a dozen flexible feathers, giving it the ability to grab unsuspecting prey as it had with Kean. And the wings, those beautiful wings that shifted color at will, covered in more of those flexible feathers. Every bit of it screamed death, and Sarah screamed it back as her shots whistled through the air.

Whipping violently now, the Wikoatl snapped its jaws and tail at Orion. Orion took a beating, but held his grip. He yelled something, unintelligible in the roars, and Adaline started towards the trees. “Sarah! We need to get up there!”

Before Adaline had even finished, Sarah had lodged three massive arrows into nearby trees, creating a ladder only her sister could truly use. Each new arrow landed only a second before her sister did, and soon Adaline had caught the Wikoatl with an unexpected blast.

The snake wyvern dove away from her, leaving her to land back on the top arrow as Sarah struggled to create something more climbable for the rest of the group. It took three times as many to get them halfway up, and by that time Adaline was struggling to stay high-enough while up against the blitzkrieg attacks. “Guess Kean and I were lucky not to find one after all,” she muttered to herself as another arrow thudded into yet another tree.

What Sarah should have been watching for was their opponent, because it had been watching her. All at once she found herself wrapped in the powerful feathers, and then slammed into a tree. Then another, and somewhere she heard a crack that could’ve been her arrows, or the trees, or even her bones. She could see through the gaps in the feathers, but the world outside was nothing but a rush of sudden greens, ethereal browns, and flickering blacks. Every time she thought she could make out which way was up or down she was jerked in a new direction. No room to draw her bow. No gap long-enough to reach for an arrow. Just pain that blurred her vision until she landed on something softer than a tree and rolled.

Tyr slashed again, but met only air. “How do you catch up to this thing?!”

“How should I know?” Kean retorted.

“You’re the expert, aren’t you?”

“Yes, so…” He paused, but kept his eyes on the snake wyvern. Worrying about Sarah wasn’t going to solve anything. The Wikoatl was fast, deadly, and it never stayed within range for long. They needed a way to keep it from flying off once it came down. “Flashes. Of course. I should have thought of it sooner.”

The first flash brought the Wikoatl screaming into the ground, and for a brief moment it was vulnerable. The Untilted lunged, but once in range they were assaulted by the Wikoatl’s violent flailing. It was a hurricane of feathers and scales, and the moment it recovered its sight it was in the air again.

“Any other bright ideas?” Orion asked, slowly pulling himself back to his feet after being flung off the wyvern in its chaotic thrashing.

“That questions like that help no one. What do we know about it?”

“It’s fast and it’s gonna kill us,” Orion said. “And it’s fast.” He held a hand to his head. “Ugh, is the world still spinning for anyone else?”

“Get down!” They all ducked, except for Sarah, who was back on her feet and loosing arrows again. The Wikoatl had used her to tear off her own arrow rungs, but she could still hit it, and the paralyzing toxins in her phial were going to make certain that every hit counted twice. “Now, get ready.”

Its jaws wide, the Wikoatl was rushing down towards Sarah, the only source of irritation in its otherwise perfect dominance. Sarah pulled a piercing arrow to its limit, funneled her chakra heavily, and let loose a shot that tore through the wyvern’s insides. Its muscles seized and spasmed before it slammed into the ground a few feet in front of Sarah, who had to leap off of it to avoid being crushed in the slide.

The group was on the paralyzed Wikoatl in an instant. “The wings!” Kean shouted. “Don’t bother with anything else!” And so they slashed and sliced and stabbed at the feathers, which took the blows disappointingly well. The Wikoatl twitched beneath them, struggling against the toxins that Sarah continued to pump into it with her arrows.

It couldn’t last, and when it snapped upwards, tossing the Untitled in every direction, their desperation looked as though it had done almost nothing. A few ruffled feathers, and now the Wikoatl somehow looked angrier. Its feathers splayed and bristled, and they settled from shimmering into a violent green as it wrapped itself around a nearby tree.

“Not good,” Orion said. “But at least he’s still, so…”

The crack of the tree as the snake wyvern snapped it in two was somehow worse than the Tigrex’s explosions had been.

“Well, Strax me.”

The Wikoatl dropped down on the group, wielding the tree like a club that shook the earth beneath their feet. Everyone stumbled, but only Kensei and Tyr were smacked with the follow-up and sent spinning. The Wikoatl was still deadly, but grounded with the tree there was an opening, and the group had to take it. Ducking beneath the next swipe, Kean and Adaline lead the charge, barreling into the Wikoatl as it strained to pull its weapon through the follow-through.

The openings were brief, because the Wikoatl fought quickly with its head, and slowly with its tail, but at least there were openings they could use. Attacking on six fronts meant that even the massive attack radius couldn’t catch them all at once. By the time the Wikoatl regained its composure and took to the skies, there were a few more bleeding marks on its hide than they’d managed with it fully downed.

“Another ten of those and,” Orion began, but the Wikoatl was coming in already.

“Sarah, do you have any sleep coatings left?” Kean asked.

“Putting it down last time didn’t do much,” Tyr said.

“This time we‘re going to run.”

“Again?”

“Yes. We’re underprepared. We can try again after we know a little more about our opponent.”

“Tch,” Tyr scoffed, but he didn’t have a better answer than that.

Sarah’s sleep-tipped arrows brought the Wikoatl down quickly, and although not a gentle landing, it was still in the grips of overwhelming fatigue when the group dashed off to safety.

Now, the Tower was almost within their grasp, but there still wasn’t a moment to rest. Another Glavenus trampled through their path, and then another Los, and another Wikoatl that they only managed to escape because it was busy with the Los. They dove beneath a clashing pair of Nargas, unable to tell if it was the same pair from the beach. They crept under a nest of sleeping pelagii that none of them dared to identify. And they narrowly felled a Zinogre  that wouldn’t stop chasing them under any circumstances.

By the time they stumbled in through the door at the base of the Tower, no one could hold their weapons up, even with chakra neutralization. It was dark, one of the blackest nights any could recall. They didn’t know if they could afford to sleep, but they had to. Kensei took the first watch, and, for once, no one disturbed him with chatter in the middle of his watch. He did not wake them for the Kirin that passed the entrance. Its mane glowed with electrical energy, and its single horn was tipped with light. In the darkness of the night, it was a shining white and blue-striped beacon. It said “Wake up,” to him, and his eyes snapped open. He had no idea when he’d fallen asleep, but no one was hurt, so he breathed a little easier.

“You should have woken one of us,” Sarah said an hour later. “It’s not fair that you had to stay up all that time.”

“The sky darkens for me as it does for you, little lark. Rest can be found in the most unexpected places.”

She didn’t say anything, but her expression soured a little bit as she digested his words. Her expression had soured much further by the thirteenth floor, and then further still by the twentieth. The Tower was in ruins. Broken hunks of stone columns littered the ground, gaps in the staircases were normal, and some floors were nearly impassable. Moss grew thick on every surface it could take hold of, and Great Thunderbug swarms, buzzing with electricity and hostility at the intruders, were common. But there were no larger monsters, and the view was increasingly incredible through the holes in the walls.

Beneath them, the sea of trees, littered with the occasional flash of fighting monsters, seemed endless, even when they could finally see the actual sea stretching out beyond it. More than once, Sarah just wanted to stop and stare, but everyone was pushing forwards, ever upwards, and so she would go when she could tarry no longer. The clouds came ever closer, and as they did the frequency of Thunderbugs dropped off, but they were replaced by something worse: Remobra.

While Remobra were snake wyverns like the Wikoatl, they were tiny, and shaped much closer to a typical wyvern except for their slightly elongated form and head. They were easy to avoid at first, their screeching and all-too-obvious tells giving away every poisonous move. In the clouds, however, everything was grey, and everything was wet. It was like fog that settled beneath the ground, along with being everywhere else. The Remobra that sunk its fangs into Sarah’s shoulder had been impossible to spot even during the bite.

She slashed through the now-empty air with one of her arrows, only to be struck again by a second Remobra from behind. “Tyr!” she called out before realizing what she was saying. She’d called the wrong name. “Adaline!” she followed up. “Do either of you have an antidote?”

“I got a few,” Orion called back. “But it’s not gonna do much good unless w- sonofafango – we get out of this nest.”

It would be another three floors of clouds and Remobra attacks before they were finally able to rest again. The clouds were still as thick as ever, but the screeching was beneath them now. Adaline could barely see a finger’s width in front of her face, but she found Tyr and pressed into him all the same. He was the only thing that was real in that world of grey. Everyone else was disembodied voices, crumbling steps, and an occasional wind that did nothing for her vision, but which chilled her damp armor all the same. It was miserable, but it was a misery with him, and that made it bearable.

“We could leave now, you know,” she whispered. “We could ‘slip’ off the edge and never be seen again.”

“You don’t think they’d come looking for us?”

“We can leave something for them to find. Just enough that they’ll think we’re dead.”

“Why don’t we see what’s at the top first, hmm?”

“I suppose that’s why we came, isn’t it? And we’re almost there.”

“We don’t know how far the top is from here.”

“I know, but I can’t help it. The secrets. An Elder Dragon. Our future together. It’s all up there, one way or another.”

“Just don’t get too far ahead of yourself, Addy.”

She kissed him, letting her lips linger on his until Kean called for them to move again. “I won’t. Come on, my Legend.”

True to her prediction, on the next floor the clouds cleared, and they could see the vast plain of stormy grey beneath them, stretching out to, strangely, a new dome of darker greys. “Are all clouds like this?” Sarah asked out loud, but no one had an answer. The wind picked up, stronger than anyone expected, and when it calmed a roar of thunder took its place. It was much, much louder than a monster’s roar, but it didn’t have the same effect on the hunters as a roar would have. Still, everyone covered their ears to keep themselves from going deaf.

As the thunder subsided, the Untitled went up the stairs to find that there was no longer any way to go up. And further floors had either been removed, or never existed. Whatever it was, it was empty of anything except for broken stone fixtures and parts of what used to be the walls. No Elder Dragon. No pinturas. Just a mostly featureless platform. Adaline’s expression fell. “There’s nothing,” she said, walking out onto the platform and turning around to face the group. “Nothing at all.”


	20. Truth

Tyr would never forget the bolt of lightning that killed Adaline. It wasn’t just white like lightning should be. It was lined in the red of blood and fury. He ran to her, his feet pounding in the silence with his heartbeat. He didn’t even see the long white dragon diving down from the grey dome above. He didn’t hear the shouts. He didn’t know he was going to die.

Kensei dove after him to intercept the Fatalis, but he was alone in his charge. His speed was astounding, but he was no longer the young hunter he used to be. The odds of his outrunning the descending white beast were less than zero.

Orion had already stumbled over himself. His feet stuttering with his words, and his fearless façade broken forever. If he could have found his voice, he might have screamed, but instead his armor clanged for him as he fell backwards down the stairs.

Kean was desperately forming a plan. He knew nothing about the Fatalis or its abilities, but the way that it picked up Tyr like a ragdoll in it s mouth while simultaneously batting aside the Sword Saint’s assault with its tail was a terrifying display of power. Rushing in wasn’t his style, but if it had been, he would have died that day too.

The Fatalis tossed Tyr’s body to the side, and it rolled dangerously close to the far edge. The Elder Dragon roared, and the clouds chorused with lightning strikes across the platform.

Sarah didn’t bother with her bow. She ran for Tyr. Each step took her too long. She could see the stonework crumbling beneath Tyr’s bleeding body. There was a voice shouting for her, but it wasn’t his voice, so she didn’t listen. When Kensei flew past her from the force of another hit. He couldn’t catch his footing, and he knocked Tyr off the edge while reaching out for something to grab onto.

She didn’t reach for him. She reached the edge and leapt into the clouds after Tyr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. It's a cliffhanger ending. Sorry about that, but that's been the plan for a very long time now. Honestly, since I started writing this years ago, and realized it just wasn't gonna be short-enough to fit the whole story into one book, this has been the breaking point. Part 2 will be out eventually, but obviously not for a while. If you'd like to see your own Hunter or Monster or whatever in the next book, let me know. Several characters in this book were fan-submissions, after all, including some of the main characters.
> 
> And, until next time, Happy Hunting.


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